


To Entwine Heaven and Hell

by lostinstars



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Blood, Closeted Alec, F/F, F/M, Fighting, Kissing, Love Triangles, Lydia is Bi, M/M, Malec, Mild Angst, More tags added as I go along, Non-Explicit, Rated M for later Chapters, Sexy Times, Shadowhunters - Freeform, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Violence, because I'm obsessed, book character appearances, but happy endings, isabelle is bi, medieval malec, probably very slow, warlock magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 98,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7428181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinstars/pseuds/lostinstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peace has reigned in the shadow realms ever since the war against demons was won a hundred years ago, and strong wards were cast to keep them out forever more. That peace is threatened when the mortal sword is stolen, and with it the power to break the wards...</p><p>Princes, princesses, warlocks, adventure, treason and love, aka, A Medieval Malec AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t get caught up in fandoms very often. I really thought that I’d get Malec out of my system with the first fic I wrote. I couldn’t have been more wrong…
> 
> So I hope you enjoy this next little (I lie, it’s really not going to be that little) adventure into my Malec fantasies ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note for new readers**
> 
> I started this story in the summer of 2016 (chapters 1-12) and then life got very busy! I'm picking it up again now - summer of 2017 - with chapter 13 and I do intend to finish it, hopefully with weekly updates. So welcome to my story, and all comments, suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome! 
> 
> Also, I write Malec with their book appearances; I know some people don't like this but when I started writing I was more familiar with the books than the show, and I also find it slightly awkward to write with real people in mind. The show is amazing and all the actors are wonderfully cast and do great jobs, I have nothing against fanfics that use their appearances (in fact I think I prefer them now) but for this fic I'm going to stick with the book canon.

_“So it has been decreed, Valentine Morgenstern, that for crimes against your country, your people, and most grievous treason against your King…you are hereby sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment in the City of Bones, never to see the light of day again…”_

The reinforced iron gates clanged shut, the grate of metal on metal ringing out. The edges glowed with the angelic power of the runes that had been engraved, ensuring that there was no escape.

King Robert stood outside the cell, his gaze cold as he appraised his former friend behind the bars.

Black eyes met his own, both horrifying and compelling as they gleamed.

Robert broke their connection and turned on his heels, marching back down the long corridor.

Maniacal laugher followed him, amplified and echoing around the cavern, chilling the soul of all with the misfortune to hear it.

 

Sixteen years later…

 

 

“Alec, c’mon!”

Alec hurried into his leather breeches, pulling the strings tight and tying a hasty knot, trying not to blush too hard as his best friend and adoptive brother danced impatiently at the door.

“I’m coming…hang on.”

He slipped his jacket on and grabbed his riding gloves, casting a cursory glance around his room before heading to the door.

“What’s the hurry?” He broke into a jog, matching the long strides of the boy next to him.

“All the good horses will be taken!”

Alec shot him a sarcastic glance. “We are royalty. We always get the best horses.”

“ _You’re_ royalty.” Jace grinned lopsidedly. “I just pretend.”

Alec huffed as Jace showed no signs of slowing down.

“After the hissy fit you threw at the competition three years ago, _everybody_ knows not to take your horse.”

“Mmm. I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right. So come on, what’s so important that you had to drag me out of bed at this ungodly hour?”

Jace exhaled dramatically as they reached the doors of the castle, his eyes twinkling as he waited for Alec.

“Okay, fine! I may be meeting a certain lady beforehand. She may have promised me her favour.”

Alec sighed, trying to affect disinterest.

“A new one?”

“Yup.” Jace clapped him on the shoulder as they made their way toward the stables.

“Her name is Lydia. Lord Branwell’s daughter.”

Alec knew who he was talking about. He’d seen her at several balls, and knew that her father owned a considerable amount of land in Idris, just south of Alicante. She’d be a perfect match for Jace. If it worked out, his friend would be set for life, with a pretty wife, his own title and enough gold to satisfy his every need and whim. But the thought made Alec nothing but cold inside.

He nodded along as Jace waxed poetic about Lydia’s beauty, trying to tune him out whilst being a good friend at the same time.

He suddenly wasn’t feeling in the mood for this joust, but he squared his shoulders and went to prepare his horse.

The Annual Alicante Joust was a big event. There were several other smaller competitions throughout the year, but most knights saw those as practice, leading up to the main event.

He and Jace weren’t knights of course, as members of the royal family they didn’t need to be – and in any case, at seventeen they weren’t of age to join. Alec suspected that Jace might very well join their ranks after his next birthday, but knew that he couldn’t do the same, however enticing that prospect might be.

He’d trained with Jace since they were old enough to hold up a practice sword. They were more than friends when they fought together; they were a team. They knew each other’s movements and minds so well that it was almost telepathic, the way they anticipated each other’s actions. He wanted nothing more than to be free to sign up with Jace, to work their way through the ranks, to live a life of battling, protecting, travelling and freedom.

But that was impossible for Alec, as the Crown Prince of Alicante.

While Jace was free to choose the path of his life, Alec’s had been set out for him since the day he’d been born.

He knew that he should be grateful; he’d been born into riches and plenty, never wanting for anything – materially, at least.

He would never complain, never…but he couldn’t help but feel a little sad whenever Jace spoke of his late parents. His mother had died in childbirth, and his father in a tragic house fire when he’d been only ten years old, after which he’d been adopted by Alec’s parents, but his father had loved him. As unusual as it was for a King and Queen to adopt, especially when they had children of their own, their parents had been very close.

No, Alec would never complain…but he couldn’t help but feel jealous of the love Jace had been given in his early life. It was in those moments that he hated himself the most.

 _Jealous_ …over his best friend’s tragedy…

It wasn’t that his own parents were cruel. They were kind and just rulers. It was only that they seemed not to find any reason for treating their children in any way different to their subjects. They were kind, and they were fair…but they were also objective, distant and formal.

The first time Alec had felt like he had a family was when Jace had come to live with them. He’d been a breath of fresh air – a beam of golden sunlight shining into their lives.

They’d always been good friends, but this was different. Jace became his brother…and so much more.

Alec didn’t know when it had started.

He couldn’t put his finger on the exact moment he’d begun to look at Jace differently.

All he knew was that the first time Jace had talked about liking a girl, it had felt like all the air had been snatched from his lungs. The room was too hot and too cold at the same time…he’d felt a thudding pain in his head and a twisting in his stomach.

It had been like losing something he hadn’t even known he’d had…but as soon as it was gone, its absence felt like a gaping wound.

He’d locked himself in his room for two days after that, refusing to see or speak to anyone. He’d needed time, to think, to sort out his own head. He’d come to many conclusions during that time, looked at his reflection with a cold eye, and made some decisions.

Then he’d resumed his life.

But as much as things stayed the same, everything had changed. He knew things now. Things about himself that he could never admit to, never speak of, never act on.

He ignored it, as best he could. But there were still moments when he was caught unawares, and there was nothing he could do about that.

Maybe it would be best, he thought darkly. If Jace did become a knight, he would be free of the daily torture it was to be around him. It would be torture too, to not be around him…but perhaps it might be the lesser of two evils.

His shook his thoughts away as they entered the stables, men bustling around despite the early hour. He parted from Jace as they went to prepare their horses; they had servants capable of doing so of course, but it was a superstition among nobles that for good luck during the Joust, one should prepare one’s own horse.

Alec didn’t mind this; in fact he prepared his own horse as often was he was able. He liked the methodical nature of the task, how brushing down and saddling his steed calmed his mind. As the crown prince he didn’t have a lot of menial tasks to attend to, and he liked how the simple-nature of this one levelled out his status for a while. He could work alongside a stableboy and feel not out of place.

“Alec!”

Jace’s voice startled him out of the reverie he’d fallen into.

“Hmm?”

Jace’s golden was stuck over the fence that divided the stalls of their horses, an impish grin lighting his face.

“Um, I was wondering…if maybe you’d have time to…”

Alec sighed.

“Go and see your woman, Jace. I’ll get him ready.” He motioned toward the majestic stallion in Jace’s stall.

“She’s not my woman…well, not yet anyway.” Jace winked.

“Just be careful, okay!” Alec called after him. “Don’t do anything that’d piss her family off…!”

But Jace was gone, bounding out into the morning sunshine, looking for all the world a young, blonde Adonis.

Alec’s heart twisted as he disappeared and he ducked into the stall next to him, trying to rid his mind of painful thoughts.

He’d already finished brushing down his own steed, making sure that his coat shone like black steel. Their horses were identical, twins from head to toe, except for their colours. They’d been given to them at their Voyance Ceremony when they’d been twelve years old, a gift from the King. Though all the horses in the Royal Stable were technically ownerless – if they were needed, they were ridden – Alec and Jace had both been drawn to the pair of wild eyed colts that King Robert had bought for a pretty penny. People often joked that the horses were personifications of their bond; white and black to match Jace’s blonde head and Alec’s dark one, yin and yang to match the way they complemented each other perfectly.

Alec tried not to think about that too often, though.

If only Jace would see how good they were together…if only Alec weren’t so scared of his own feelings…if only it weren’t a sin…in the eyes of the law, at least.

Alec knew that what he felt wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t ashamed of himself, he would just…rather he didn’t feel the things that he felt.

It would be so much easier.

It wasn’t uncommon for men to take other men as lovers, or women to take other women. It happened, but when it did, it wasn’t spoken of. It was something that common people engaged in, not the societal elite. It happened, but it was forbidden for such a relationship to progress into anything official. Men married women, that was that. He’d heard tales of some men who eschewed the institution of marriage, opting either to live alone, or with their male lovers. But when that happened, the couple were pretty much shunned from all society, elite or common. Some others chose to simply not marry, to live alone. But Alec knew that he would have to marry. He dreaded his eighteenth birthday, for that was when his parents would begin choosing his bride. He would fulfil his duties, he knew that. He just hoped beyond anything else that she would not expect him to love her.

He got lost in his thoughts again, brushing down the Stallion before him, polishing their gear, slowly saddling the two horses.

He was just adjusting the bridle on his own steed when a figure strode past his stall, catching his attention for some reason, over all the other activity in the stables. He poked his head out into the walkway, trying to discern why the boy looked so familiar yet strange.

He stopped at a stall a little ways down, darting a glance back towards the door before fiddling with the bolt.

Alec gasped, hastening toward the stall the boy had gone into, slipping inside before he managed to close it.

“ _Izzy.”_

He chided, grabbing his sister by the arm.

“What are you doing? And what _on earth_ are you wearing?!”

She pulled out of his grip, her dark eyes narrowing as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Shhh! Obviously I’m under cover here!” She gestured to her clothing.

Alec gaped, scandalized, taking in the leather breeches that were so similar to his own, outlining the shape of her slender legs and hips, up to the white shirt that billowed out, obscuring her feminine form. She’d even hidden her hair, he could see the end of a braid poking out from the cap tucked it under.

“This isn’t going to work!” He protested, weakly. “I could tell it was you!”

She rolled her eyes.

“Well once I’m on a horse, it’ll be fine.”

She turned toward the Palomino mare, watching them with gentle brown eyes, patting her neck affectionately.

“Missy here, and I have been training for months and nobody ever suspected.”

Alec sighed, long-suffering.

“That’s different.” He ignored the fact that his sister had been dressing up in men’s clothing for months and none of them had noticed. He’d have to start keeping a closer eye on her, though he’d been turning a blind eye since she began sneaking out to meet up with boys. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Though in this case…

“Izzy, the Joust is dangerous. You’ll get _hurt – ”_

She glared at him.

“You haven’t seen me training, Alec. I’m not half bad you know. Just because I’m a girl -”

“I don’t doubt that you’re good!” He backtracked. “But if mother and father catch you, I - ”

“Then it’s _my_ fault!” She interrupted. “You try and take on too much, Alec. You need to let go sometimes.” She picked up a brush and began rubbing smooth circles over Missy’s flank.

“I know you care, and I’m grateful for that…but you need to stop trying to take the blame for what Jace and I do. Especially today.”

She raised an eyebrow, sounding to Alec as though she was hinting at something specific.

“What do you mean, what’s Jace doing?”

She laughed. “See? You can’t help but try and control everything. In any case, Lydia will sort him out. I don’t for the life of me know why he thought it was a good idea to try and court that one.”

“What’s wrong with Lydia?” Alec crossed his arms, defensive and concerned.

Izzy shot him an indecipherable glance.

“She’s way too smart for him, that’s what.”

“Is that all?” He was confused by her tone.

“Stop worrying, big brother! Now, just pretend you didn’t see me here, and everything will be fine.”

She pushed him gently out of the stall.

He closed his eyes momentarily, before ducking back into his horse’s stall. His siblings would be the death of him.

 

.

 

The midsummer sun shone brightly overhead but a light breeze kept Alec from being too uncomfortable in his heavy gear. He swung his arms, stretching his muscles.

He’d completed one heat already, and sailed through to the next round. He was confident in his ability to place among the top ten, he spent most of his time training with Jace, training alone or with decorated knights in his father’s army. He’d been taught well, and he’d honed his skills.

But sometimes he did wonder whether his title helped him along. There was no favouring from the King towards him or Jace, everybody knew that. But he was a Prince, there was no denying that fact. Sometimes he could tell when a man held back, allowing him to sail through. It was frustrating, but he enjoyed the sport. There was nothing he could do about it.

He cast an eye round, over the knights attending to their horses, the arena around which civilians were gathered, the stands upon which his parents sat among various lords and ladies.

He spotted Lydia sitting beside her father, looking a vision in a gown of pale blue that he knew would complement her eyes. He didn’t know her well, but he could see what Isabelle had meant as she noted the rigidity of her posture, her head held high, the bored, almost disdainful expression he’d come to expect from the Elite. He didn’t doubt that she’d be a handful for Jace.

Speaking of, Alec noticed his brother taking his jacket off, letting his shirt billow out in the breeze. It hung off his lean, muscular frame and Alec had to look away quickly before he noticed too much. He did however, catch the delicate white handkerchief emblazoned with blue lace that was wound into his horse’s bridle.

He noticed Isabelle glaring at Jace from a distance away, her arms folded as she leant against her horse. He rolled his eyes. She may chastise him for caring too much, but she didn’t want to see him hurt either.

Still, it was common practice for participants in the Joust to take favours from ladies. He himself had accepted a similar token from his friend, Lady Aline, of the Penhallow family.

She didn’t visit often, but usually stayed with them during the summer. They’d grown close a few years back, when Izzy and Jace had begun spending more of their time in the pursuit of romance. Aline, like him, preferred to opt out of such frivolities.

Alec’s attention was dragged back to arena as an aging nobleman who was overseeing this year’s competition stepped onto a podium at one end of the field, close to where the nobles sat shaded from the sun.

“The next heat shall comprise of…His Royal Highness Alexander Lightwood, and the Honourable Lord Jonathon Herondale!”

Alec refrained from rolling his eyes at their titles. He understood that it was perhaps unavoidable in everyday life, but in a competition such as this, he was no better than the other men. He saw Jace swing up onto his stallion, grinning as he bowing to the cheering crowd.

Alec suppressed a smile. Jace deserved it; the title, the attention. He’d inherited his Lordship after the untimely death of his father. Alec was glad that he could enjoy the benefits that came with it, though they could never make up for the means by which it was bestowed.

He mounted his horse with the same practiced ease, urging him toward the gate. He accepted his lance with murmured thanks, shaking the dark hair out of his eyes as he prepared for the round.

They paraded once around the arena, acknowledging the ladies in the audience and bowing to the King and Queen.

Alec let a small grin play across his face as he and Jace took their places at either end of the arena.

His earlier mood was forgotten, whisked away in the soothing breeze and coiled energy in his muscles. This was what he lived for. This was the only time he would let himself go, that he could spend his energy purely toward _enjoying_ himself.

He readied his lance, waiting for the horn, entirely focused on his brother, holding himself in the same position. They’d made a bet weeks before; and it wasn’t about money, of course, they both had more than they needed. This was about _pride_ …about challenging the other…about bragging rights, and Alec really didn’t want to give Jace more reason to brag.

The horn sounded… _and they were off._

Alec let the reins fall slack; he’d trained long enough that his horse knew the drill as well as he did. They moved together, fluidly, flawlessly. They surged forward, Alec crouching low in the saddle, his grip on his lance tight and even. The wind whipped through his helmet, drowning out all other noise.

Jace was coming closer and closer…

SMACK.

The blunt tip of Jace’s lance hit him squarely in the chest and he almost forgot to grasp the reins as his own crashed into Jace.

He moved instinctively, the muscles in the thighs and in arm holding the reins tightening while he relaxed, letting the impact push him back but keeping his position on his horse.

It worked best like that – if you fought the attack then you would mostly likely lose your balance, your focus having been jarred.

He managed to stay on his horse, exhaling a breath as he crouched low again, cantering around to see what had become of Jace.

He laughed as he realised that his brother has employed the same technique – perhaps they’d trained together _too_ much.

He turned to the podium to await instruction…and froze.

He hadn’t noticed that something had seemed off, but now that he took in the scene before him, the lack of noise

Jousts were noisy occasions. As royalty, he and Jace only had to enter the arena for the crowd to roar. He hadn’t noticed the moment it had ceased, having been too caught up the sport. But silence reigned now, and it was eerie.

Every face in the audience and among the milling knights was turned toward the King, who had stood from his perch, with a messenger beside him. Even from so far away it was clear to see that his face was thunder – Alec’s heart clenched. What had happened?

His father’s gray eyes glared forward then he turned, strode off the podium and back towards the castle. A quick gesture and six knights strode with him, along with his personal Guard and the messenger hurrying behind.

Alec glanced toward Jace, who looked as confused as he felt.

Then he heard it, the silence broken with dissonant whispers. They came from those stood closest to the podium, and spread until Alec was surrounded with little snatches of sound, all speaking the same thing.

_“The Mortal Sword…taken…demons…threat…war…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn’t realise how unintentionally erotic it is to describe a jousting scene… I swear, this was supposed to sound innocent :’) of course, it could sound completely innocent and it’s just my mind, splashing about in the gutter. Whichever way you read it, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! I have never jousted before, surprisingly…so my description could be completely wrong but hey…my only point of reference is having watched A Knight’s Tale about five years ago :’)
> 
> Much, much more drama is to come, and from what I have planned right now, it’s going to be a long one! I hope to update twice a week but to start with it may be once as I write ahead.
> 
> Please comment/leave kudos if you liked it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a backstory on the Shadowhunter world in this AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn’t intend this to be so complex, my mind just sort of ran away from me… :’) I have altered the powers of the Mortal Instruments to suit my story.
> 
> Updates will tentatively be Tuesdays and Fridays :)

Alec paced the length of the corridor outside the Great Hall, within which his parents had been ensconced with their advisors for the past hour.

The Joust had been called to an abrupt close, chaos following the announcement. Fear had crashed over the crowd like a wave, confusion and hysteria following the whispers.

Alec had dismounted quickly alongside Jace, leaving their horses in the hands of a stableboy who had rushed to them, before hastening back to the Castle.

He’d understood the whispers well enough, but wasn’t quite sure what they’d mean. He could feel panic brewing inside but refused to give it free reign until he’d spoken to his father.

The Mortal Sword? Stolen?

That was very bad news indeed, if only because it meant that their security system had failed, or somehow been overridden.

The Mortal Sword was the most important and powerful relic of the Shadowhunters; the one who wielded it had power over demons.

But demons hadn’t threatened their world in over a hundred years – not since The Mortal War had been won.

He stopped pacing, glancing up at the great tapestry that covered the entirety of the wall opposite the sweeping staircase.

It depicted the moment of victory; how the legendary William Herondale had used the Mortal Sword to command the demonic army to cease their attack. It had been an unimaginable feat of strength, holding back so many thousands of demons. But he had been aided by Theresa Gray, the only Shadowhunter-Warlock know to have existed. She’d kept on replenishing his strength, which gave a trio of Warlocks – Ragnor Fell, Catarina Loss and Magnus Bane – time to combine their powers, weaving an impenetrable web of wards around the world. It had very near killed them all, and it shouldn’t have worked, if not for William Herondale stumbling upon the Mortal Mirror in his exhaustion. Having already had the Mortal Cup in his position too, he had been able to call upon the Angel Raziel to add his strength to the wards.

Since then, not a single demon had been able to enter their world.

Shadowhunters had flocked back to Idris, their homeland, no longer needed in the wider world.

William Herondale had been offered the crown, after it had been decided to make Idris a monarchy, befitting the victory of the land. He’d declined however, choosing instead to wed his true love, Theresa – now known as Tessa – Gray, and live a quiet life outside of Alicante.

Instead, his younger sister Cecily had been elected. She’d married Gabriel Lightwood, and the Lightwoods had ruled ever since. Every decade there was a vote, of course, to keep things fair. But the Lightwoods had ruled justly and there had never been any reason to take them out of power, much to Alec’s dismay.

He stood gazing up at William Herondale, looking fiercely majestic in the heavenly glow of Raziel rising from the lake.

If only he’d taken the crown…Alec might be free.

But then, he’d declined so that he could be free. Alec could understand that.

It wasn’t forbidden for Shadowhunters to marry Downworlders, but it was much the same as choosing to be with someone of your gender.

The tapestry in front of him didn’t even include the Warlocks who had saved them; it was a fact that their society had chosen to ignore. A pesky little detail marring the otherwise proud tale of Shadowhunter victory.

They’d been rewarded greatly, of course.

But the truth had been obscured with prejudice.

Many Shadowhunters had loathed being in debt to Warlocks, to lesser beings. Especially after the horrors of the war, most feared and despised anything with demonic attachment.

Downworlders were allowed to exist, allowed to live…but they were shunned. There was no more need for Warlocks and no more were born, of course, since demons were barred from the world. So they lived in seclusion, away from big cities and more importantly, away from Shadowhunters.

Alec had heard tales of some seeking out a Warlock, paying for healing tonics and spells of luck and fortitude. But if they did, it was something they didn’t admit. Many Warlocks chose to live outside Idris, peddling magical tonics and fortunes to mundanes, who didn’t understand enough about them to be afraid of or despise them.

Seelies were banished to forests; one of the first lessons a Shadowhunter child learnt was not to stray into the trees.

Vampires and Werewolves still existed, of course, but few had settled in Idris. Most kept to themselves, out in the wider world. Only a few times had Shadowhunters felt the need to intervene, mostly they ruled among themselves.

Shadowhunters were no longer the Shadowhunters of old; angelic power was no longer required. They had no use of runes, no heavenly battle to fight.

Sometimes Alec wondered what it had been like, to be a warrior with a noble purpose. What would he have been like?

Shadowhunters were still trained, still taught to fight, just in case. But that practice had faded out until it was mostly the elite, then mostly the male elite, now it was only really those who aspired to join the royal army, or like Alec, had nothing else to do.

They still received their first runes, the Voyance rune, but that was largely tradition, and to protect against Seelie glamours. It was a coming of age ceremony, not an induction into a life of battle.

He glanced from the rune on the back of his right hand up to the depiction of William Herondale once more, as he stood before the Angel, covered in ink black markings.

Most Shadowhunters he knew revelled in the fact that they weren’t required to scar their skin, but Alec couldn’t help but feel a strange longing.

He shook the thought away as footsteps sounded on the staircase behind him, bringing him out of his reverie.

Isabelle drew to a halt when she reached the floor, panting for breath.

She’d changed out of her jousting clothes, he saw, and hastily thrown on a dress.

She didn’t look dishevelled though, he noted with irritation. How was it that she’d gotten the flawless presentation genes, while he could rarely get his hair to lie flat?

However she looked disgruntled as she smoothed her gown out, moving to stand by Jace who had his ear up against the door.

“Have you heard anything?” She asked.

Alec shook his head, moving away from the tapestry. He felt grimly relieved that she hadn’t gotten the chance to fight.

“They told us to wait here.” He answered.

She sighed, looking worried.

“What do think this means?”

Alec didn’t know how to answer, knowing that her expression was mirrored on his own face.

The Mortal Sword had been kept deep within the dungeons below their castle since the War had been won.

Only once since then had any kind of serious threat rocked them; sixteen years ago, when their father had been betrayed by his closest advisor and friend.

Valentine Morgenstern had been invaluable to their family, to Alicante.

He was exceptionally skilled with weapons and had led a battalion in the King’s army. He’d grown up with their parents and they’d trusted his council above no other. He’d been blessed not only with great skill on the battlefield, but with a sharp, discerning mind.

Alec had been too young to remember him, too young to recall the betrayal. But all alive knew the story well.

He’d cultivated a group called the Circle. A political party, as it had been known before, a cult as it was known by now.

At first, it had been harmless. He’d called for stricter laws against Downworlder crimes, and few had opposed him. There was already a great mistrust for creatures of demonic origin, and it was well known that his parents had been murdered by rogue werewolves.

But somewhere along the line, it had turned.

He’d grown crueller and more fanatical. When his wife had discovered his experiments in their basement – watched him torturing Downworlder children – she’d hatched a plot against him. He’d been brought to justice and sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment within the City of Bones.

Alec had asked the Castle cook once, for the whole story.

It had chilled him as she’d recounted the way his black eyes had gleamed as he’d been dragged away. How he’d looked his father directly in the eyes and told him that his reign would fall.

Alec suppressed a shiver. It couldn’t have anything to do with Valentine. He was locked away, and nobody ever escaped the City of Bones.

He leant back against the wall just as the great oak doors creaked open, startling them all. Jace jumped back hastily, trying to affect nonchalance. Alec shook his head.

“The King and Queen wish to see you.” The guard gestured into the hall.

Alec swallowed, ignoring the uneasiness that settled on his skin. He led the way into the hall, followed closely by his siblings.

Their parents were seated on their thrones at the opposite end of the room, great structures crafted of shining silver and gold, with cushioned blue velvet spread across the seat and the back. They weren’t as comfortable as they looked – Alec had checked. Though he supposed, perhaps it had been the crushing weight of the Kingdom that had made him uncomfortable, and not the upholstery.

The small crowd of people around them parted, allowing the three to stop just before the thrones.

The King’s face was unreadable as he regarded them, the Queen looking on just as impassively.

_That’s mom and dad,_ Alec thought.

He could sense Izzy fidgeting next to him.

“No doubt you have heard the rumours?” Robert spoke at last, his gaze fixed on Alec.

They nodded.

“In the early hours of this morning, the guards discovered signs of a break in.”

He paused, as Alec’s mind reeled. Their fortress was supposed to impenetrable.

“The Mortal Sword is, indeed, missing.”

Izzy gasped, and even Jace couldn’t suppress a shiver.

“It seems that someone – or something,” Alec wondered if he meant Downworlders. “is acting against us. We do not as of yet know anything else. The silent brothers are here, examining the evidence.”

The silent brothers were the only Shadowhunters who had continued the tradition of using runes. It had been decided that in the case of any future trouble, their heightened powers might come in use.

“However, there is little they seem to be able to accomplish. We have called in the nearest Warlock to aid them.”

Through his shock, Alec heard shifting among the other people in the room. It must be dire indeed, if his father would deign to associate with a _Warlock._

“Who is it, my lord?” Jace sounded eager.

Alec felt a twinge of excitement also, but it was far overshadowed by anxiety. They’d never met a Warlock, or indeed any creature of demonic origin. They were believed impure, unworthy of mixing with.

“Magnus Bane.” His father’s tone was terse.

Izzy gasped again, clapping her hands together.

“Oh! I’ve always wanted to meet him!”

Her father turned his disdainful gaze upon her.

“Well, he is a hero..”

He ignored her.

“He will be here merely to examine the wards and test for traces of magic. He will be staying in one of the Guesthouses, and under _no circumstances_ are you to engage him in conversation without the presence of a guard.”

Alec suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

Magnus Bane had helped to save them, it was unlikely that he’d waltz into the castle with the intention of murdering them all. Though if they all treated him the way his father seemed inclined to, Alec wasn’t sure that he’d blame him.

“On to other matters.” He continued, bringing his palms together. “I believe that Lady Branwell granted you her favour today, Jonathon?”

Jace nodded his affirmation.

“And Alexander, you again carried Lady Penhallow’s?”

Alec nodded, wondering where his father was going with this. He had never before shown an interest in which women they associated with, as long as they were among the elite.

“And may I ask – do either of you hold any particular affection for these two ladies?”

Alec was dumbfounded. To go from talk of war and betrayal to courting women?

“Um…not particularly…not yet.” Jace answered for them when he stayed silent. The King nodded thoughtfully.

“Alexander? Is Lady Penhallow…special…to you?”

Alec flushed red. “She’s a friend. That’s all.” He said hastily. “Why?”

“Lord Branwell has made an offer.”

Alec let the words sink in for a long moment, not quite understanding.

“An…offer?”

“Of marriage, Alexander.” His mother drawled, cutting in.

Alec’s heart skipped a beat. There was a hollow pounding in his ears.

“I don’t…I mean, I thought…I’m not eighteen yet.” He stuttered. He felt the pressure of Izzy’s hand on his wrist. He didn’t want to see Jace’s expression.

“You will be soon.” His mother replied. “And with the current situation, it may be a good idea to divert attention.”

Alec blinked, unsure he’d heard right. His parents would force him into an early marriage…to _divert attention?_

But then again, it was something they’d expected of him anyway. He had just thought that he’d had more time.

“If you have anyone else in mind, Alexander, we will be negotiating over the next few weeks. I can seek out Lord Penhallow…

“No.” He said hastily. Although he would much rather marry a friend than a stranger, he would not subject Aline to a loveless marriage.

“Very well. There are several young ladies we will consider, with your input of course. Come to me if there is someone I might not have considered.”

Deep within his roiling horror, Alec felt a morbid amusement. He was quite sure that his father would never have considered _anyone_ he’d actually think about marrying. Not that his father would ever know that.

They were dismissed, their parents turning back to their advisors.

“Jace…”

Alec grabbed his shoulder as soon as they’d left the hall.

“I’m sorry…I’ll refuse it.”

Jace gave him a crooked smile.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t serious.”

“Are you sure?” Alec frowned. “You seemed to like her…”

“Yes, _Jonathon._ ” Izzy joined them, crossing her arms. “What’s between you and Lydia?”

Jace shrugged. “I like pretty women. She’s a pretty woman…”

Izzy snorted. “Is that it?”

He looked at her weirdly.

“Jealous, Iz?”

She glared at him, tensing.

“Why would I be?”

Jace preened, shaking himself down.

“I know that it’s hard for you, having to call the most attractive man around here your brother. If it’s any consolation, if you weren’t my sister…” He winked, yelping as she hit him on the arm.

“Most attractive? I didn’t think your name was Alexander…” Her tone was biting.

“Okay, okay.” Alec cut in, blushing slightly. “That’s enough.” He sighed. “Jace, I just wanted to check…”

Jace turned to him, looking contrite. “You’re a good brother, Alec. But really, it’s okay. I don’t intend to marry – at least not any time soon. I want to see all of Idris first, become the greatest knight since my dear ancestor Will-boy…visit whorehouses across the-”

He yelped again as Izzy’s fist this time found its way into his gut.

“You’re a pig.” She informed him in a haughty tone.

“Aw come on, you love me. I was kidding about the whorehouses…” He ruffled her hair, dancing out of reach before she could hit him again.

“Anyway children, time is money…and I have a lot of both so I’d better go and spend it somewhere!”

He turned and swaggered out of the castle, disappearing from view.

Alec watched him go with a swirling mix of emotions raging inside him.

“Are you okay?”

Izzy’s face was a picture of sympathy as she regarded him.

He pushed a hand through his already ruffled hair, closing his eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” He said, mechanically.

“That’s not what I asked.” She moved to take his hand, rubbing soothing circles into his wrist.

“They can’t make you marry if you really don’t want to, you know.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But it’s going to have to happen someday.”

“Alec – ”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

She watched him go with sad eyes, feeling uneasiness begin to settle in her stomach.

The Mortal Sword, stolen…Alec, in talks of marriage…she’d never known unrest before, she’d been born shortly after Valentine’s demise. All she’d ever known was peace. And there was no reason why the sword shouldn’t be returned to them soon; her father would have every knight on its trail before the day was out, she knew it.

So why was she so worried?

She followed her brother’s path back up the grand staircase, her fingers trailing lightly on the polished stone railings.

This morning, her biggest fear had been whether or not anyone would recognise her in the Joust. And that had really been more of an excitement. But now…

Alec would be okay, she had to believe that. Something would happen, something would save him from the duties that weighed down on his young shoulders. And she – she would be there for him in any way she could. Even if that meant taking on some of the burden herself. Even if that meant becoming more responsible.

She wouldn’t be sneaking out tonight, no matter how much she wished she could.

She would return to her bedchamber and remain there, play the perfect, dutiful princess. She couldn’t risk anything when it came to Alec.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone’s favourite glittery Warlock first makes an appearance.. ;)

Magnus pulled gently on the reins, bringing his horse to a stop on the crest of a hill.

Before him Alicante lay sprawling, the exact picture of the city he’d walked out of so long ago.

It had been decades, but it didn’t look as though anything had changed. The past and present memories jarred inside his mind, leaving his skin prickling. He only lived a few hours’ ride from the city, but it had been years and years since he’d laid eyes on it.

His gaze swept over the land, raking over the sparse edge of the forest to his left and the sparkling blue of the lake to his right. Over the ridged peaks of the mountains in the distance, and between them all, the great capital city of Idris, its glass towers soaring, seeming to reach for the sky itself.

He’d almost forgotten how entrancing the sight was.

He’d once called the city home, he remembered. That had been a lifetime ago. Now he no longer felt welcome; its streets haunted with the ghosts of people he’d once known. Some had died, and some had met an even worse fate within his mind…to taunt him eternally, cruel spectres teasing with tainted memories he’d tried so hard to free himself from.

Those, and the persisting intolerance of its inhabitants, had persuaded him to avoid his once beloved city indefinitely.

But now he’d been summoned back. Forced to relieve such pain, having to come running at the whistle of the Shadowhunter King…

Humans and their brevity, he shook his head. They would fail to comprehend his thoughts and emotions, even if they did deign to consider them.

He’d been a friend to Shadowhunters once. Loved them, fought with them…saved the world with them.

Not anymore.

The Shadowhunters he’d loved were long gone, living only in the memories of the immortal lives they’d touched.

He felt another feather of grief settle upon him.

Alone, each memory, each pain, each _burden_ was almost nothing, easily dealt with. But when one had amalgamated several lifetimes’ worth of such, it became infinitely more difficult. Sometimes he wondered what exactly it was he was living for. He wondered if the best days were behind him, if he’d already been blessed with all the happiness he was going to get.

Some days he wasn’t sure if he could go on.

But then he’d be called upon for magical help, or visit with one of the few friends he had still living, and it’d ease the burden ever so slightly.

That, and the fact that he knew what was awaiting him upon his death.

Most people in his situation found the unknown a somewhat desirable path, but it was no secret for him. He didn’t quite fancy submitting himself to an eternity in hell with his father for company. However bad his life might be, death would most certainly be a worse fate.

He squared his shoulders, banishing the dark thoughts and painful memories to the abyss at the back of his mind.

For now, he had a summons to answer.

 

.

 

Alec stretched and blinked as the morning sunlight warmed his face.

He cracked a bleary eye open, searching for its source. Ah. He’d forgotten, in his distress the night before, to close his curtains.

He sighed, swinging his legs out of bed. There was no point trying to sleep some more. He’d only be wallowing in his thoughts.

He went into his adjoining washroom to splash some cold water on his face, wincing as it shocked his body alert. He wondered what the day ahead would bring. His father was a clever and capable King, he reminded himself, no matter how lacking his parental warmth was. He’d amassed the largest and most skilled army Idris had ever had, in the chance that a threat might rock them.

But this?

Alec wasn’t sure if this threat was something an army could fight.

They might be strong, they might be smart – but that didn’t reassure him. The fact remained that someone – or something – had infiltrated their dungeons, their stronghold, and snatched away their most prized and powerful possession, from right under their noses. No alarm had even been raised, until the theft had been discovered the next morning.

He dressed quickly, frowning at his hair in the mirror, a morning ritual of his. He ran his fingers through it a few times, only succeeding in messing it up some more. He abandoned his attempts and made his way downstairs.

“Your Highness, the King requests your presence in the Great Hall.”

His thoughts were interrupted by the messenger, who hastened away after a quick bow. He changed direction from the kitchen, where he’d been hoping to grab a quick breakfast.

To his surprise the Great Hall was full, despite the early hour. Knights and Guards stood to attention around the perimeter, watching over the crowds of finely dressed noblemen and women who had gathered before the thrones. He ducked through to his parents.

“Alexander.”

His mother greeted him, primly.

“Mother.” He bowed his head. “What is all this for?”

“The Warlock has arrived in Alicante.” His father answered. His blue eyes that were so similar to Alec’s own were cold and steely.

Ah.

Alec wondered when, in the last hundred years, people had begun mistrusting Warlocks. And with a suppressed shiver, he wondered again what they were facing, if his father had deigned to call one in for help, despite his prejudices.

There was a sudden murmur that ran through the crowd, as the doors swung open and everybody stood a little straighter. Alec shuffled back, hiding half behind his mother’s throne. He’d never been comfortable being on show.

Two Guards marched into the room, down the makeshift aisle made by the parting of the crowd.

Alec craned his neck as they stepped aside, eager for a glance at one of the Warlocks they owed their safety to.

His mouth dropped open.

He’d been expecting someone a little more…distinguished? Grey? Intimidating?

He hadn’t really known what to expect, never having seen a Warlock before, but his mind had conjured up some sort of wizened old man, perhaps with a cane, perhaps wearing long dark robes as befitted his status as a powerful magic user.

The man who stood before them could not have been further from that picture.

He was tall, perhaps even a little taller than Alec, who was well used to towering over people. He was very slim, but held himself in such a way that Alec didn’t doubt his physical power, as well as his magical prowess.

His skin, which was a smooth dark caramel colour, seemed to glow and sparkle in the refracted beams of sunlight that danced around the room.

Alec couldn’t tell what colour his eyes were but they gleamed, complementing the slight curve of his reddened lips (was that _make-up?_ ) and his lazy posture.

Alec jolted as he realised that he’d been staring, and his gaze was drawn to the man’s outfit.

He felt his lips pull up into a grin as he imagined his father’s outrage at the Warlocks extravagance.

He was clad in smooth cream jodhpurs, of a material Alec couldn’t identify, save for the way it seemed to cling to his figure, outlining his long, lean legs up to the slight curve of his hips.

Alec dragged his eyes away, swallowing. He felt a blush rise on his cheeks as he imagined what would be said if _he_ ever decided to wear such indecent clothing.

Thankfully, the man’s shirt was loose, dark green silk billowing out over his torso. Alec gulped as his eyes rose, realising that the shirt was actually as indecent as the trousers it was tucked into. At least three buttons had been left undone, he noted, his blush rising as his eyes fixated on the man’s chest, upon which sparkling, jewelled necklaces lay gleaming. Underneath the silk and jewels he could make out hard lines of muscle, confirming his theory about the man’s physical capabilities.

“Magnus Bane.”

His father’s deep voice startled him, forcing him to drag his eyes away from the Warlock.

He noticed that the room had gone silent, and that many of the gentry were sporting scandalised looks as they too, took in the Warlocks unconventional appearance.

“My King.”

Magnus’s voice was as smooth and silky as the rest of him, his low bow revealing an elegance that Alec could only wish for.

He raised an eyebrow when he rose out of the bow, waiting for Robert to speak.

“You have heard, I presume, of the theft?” He said eventually.

“A rumour did reach my area, yes.” Magnus’s smirk disappeared. “What is it that you require of me?”

“Wards.” The King replied, more quickly this time. “The sword was protected by magic. We need you to check the wards and tell us who has done this, and how.”

Magnus seemed to consider for a moment, studying his hands, which Alec realised were adorned with colourful rings.

“There are limits to even my magic,” he said, managing to sound both humble and bragging at the same time. “I can study the vault for you, I will be able to detect the kind of magic that was used to break in, but to have pulled off such a feat requires great power and knowledge. I doubt that any sort of identifying trace has been left behind.”

“Are you saying that you can’t help us?” Alec could hear the frown in his father’s voice.

“I can most certainly try.” Magnus replied. “I will tell you all I can, I just do not wish for you to be disappointed if what I find is not of much use.”

“Very well.” Robert said, after a long pause. “The Guards will escort you to the vault.”

Magnus bowed again, catching the dismissal. He turned on his heels, as graceful as before, and swept out of the Hall. Alec was left with a slight ringing in his ears as conversation built up again.

He found the Warlock most intriguing, he had to admit. He was powerful, yes. That much was evident with the man’s mere presence, let alone the air of confidence that hung around him. But there were other things to. Perhaps it was because he was a living link to the history Alec had grown up with. He was one of the reasons his family was in power, why he didn’t have to risk his life everyday fighting the soldiers of hell.

He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Magnus Bane, but he was intrigued. And in a place where the most exciting thing was hearing of Jace and Izzy’s night time escapades, intriguing was good.

 

.

 

Magnus nodded to the Guard posted outside the Guesthouse he’d be staying in for the next few days.

He schooled his features into a mask of pleasant compliance, whilst seething inside. It seemed that intolerance had well and truly afflicted the Shadowhunters to the worst degree; not only had Guards stuck to him the entire time he’d been in the Castle, but now he was to be guarded while sleeping too?

He wondered when things had gotten so bad.

He supposed that although Valentine had been locked away for his grievous crimes, his message of warning and hatred against all creatures of demonic origin had had the effect he’d desired. Magnus wondered if his punishment would have been so severe – indeed, if he’d have been punished at all – if he hadn’t made moves against the crown. If his crimes had been only to harm people like him, would they have cared?

He wasn’t sure he’d want to know the answer.

He hadn’t had the most pleasant morning ever. The King and Queen had been cold and abrupt, their court ogling him as though he were some strange creature on display in a zoo. The Guards had not deigned to answer him, so he’d been stuck talking to himself the entire time they’d been in the empty vault where the sword had once lain.

He cast his mind over the recent events that had the Shadowhunters reeling.

He had been able to detect traces of magic, but they were far too faint to be of any use. As for how whoever had committed the crime had gotten into the vault, there was no indication anywhere.

He shook his head. It was the Shadowhunters problem. If it did escalate into a threat against them, well, Magnus had already saved them once before. And for all the thanks he’d gotten, he may as well not have bothered. Meanwhile, the King – unaccommodating as he was – was paying handsomely for his time. He’d stay for two more days, increase the strength of the wards around the Castle and then he’d have nothing more to do with them.

He cast his eye around the rooms he’d been given.

The Guesthouse was small, but it was rather nice, if not a little too regal for his tastes. Still, it was comfortable, and would do for the time being.

He slipped into the bedroom at the back of the house, waving his fingers to open the window far enough so that he could ease his body through the opening.

There was no way he was going to stay locked inside the house for the remainder of the day. It had been too long since he’d walked the castle grounds, he wanted to see how they had changed.

 

.

 

_One…two…three…four…duck. Block, one two, sidestep._

Alec panted as he worked through the steps.

It would have been more helpful if he’d had someone to spar with, but since both Izzy and Jace had melted away to places unknown, the punching bag would have to do.

He’d worked up quite a sweat since he’d been there, but he was outside and the breeze was most helpfully cooling his heated skin.

_One…two…three…duck –_

“Well, if this isn’t a sight for sore eyes.”

Alec whirled round at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, almost losing his footing.

He managed to catch himself, but couldn’t help the deep flush that spread across his skin when he saw who his interrupter was.

The Warlock.

The _unfairly handsome_ Warlock, his mind supplied unhelpfully.

He hoped that his flush could be attributed to the exercise.

“Can you speak, or have I stumbled across the most beautiful mute in existence?”

Alec blinked as his heart raced…and he wasn’t sure he could attribute _that_ to the exercise either.

“Um…I…hello.”

He chastised himself internally for in ineloquence. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact the he’d been called beautiful. And by the person he considered beautiful, too.

The Warlock – Magnus, he told himself – grinned, his face lighting up.

“It speaks!”

Alec returned the smile, hoping that his awkwardness didn’t come off.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Magnus’s grin faltered, and Alec guessed that he hadn’t succeeded.

“I’ve just been looking around, and seem to have lost my way. Though I can’t say I’m disappointed with where I’ve ended up.”

Alec blinked again. Was he being… _flirted_ with? Or was Magnus just very polite? He did seem like the kind of person who’d be a good conversationalist.

“Um…the Castle is back that way.” He pointed to their right. “Through the flower garden and left at the Statute, of um…William Herondale.”

Magnus’s face lit up again. “Oh, you have a statue of Will? Hilarious! I suppose that’s a recent addition, he’d never have allowed that.”

Alec’s eyes widened. “Oh, right…you knew him?”

“I did.” Something flashed in Magnus’s eyes, but he extended his arm with a flourish. “Magnus Bane, pleased to make your acquaintance. You know, you look a little like him.”

Alec moved forward, hastily wiping his hand before grasping Magnus’s.

“It’s good to meet you. I’m, um…sorry. It must be hard, when people…I mean, knowing that…”

He flushed again, unable to find the words he wanted to say. Thankfully, Magnus seemed to understand.

“I appreciate that. Thank you…”

He looked at Alec, his expression questioning.

“Oh. Alec.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Alec. I hope I run into you again sometime.”

His gaze roved over Alec’s torso once more, the fact that they were still grasping hands making it so much more _intimate_ than it had seemed before. Alec had a sudden urge to pull his hand away, but the instructions seemed to get lost on the way from his brain.

Thankfully, it didn’t last more than a few more moments before Magnus released his hand and swept away, in the direction Alec had gestured to.

He didn’t look back, but Alec gazed after him until he’d been obscured from view. His hand was tingling, not unpleasantly.

 

.

 

Magnus spent another hour or so roaming the grounds, this time careful to keep the Castle in plain view.

He would have spent longer, but his thoughts were all of a sudden consumed, with raven hair against pale skin and eyes so blue they rivalled the sapphires set into Magnus’s most precious rings.

It surprised him, to say the least.

Though he was the first one to admit that he ‘got around’, it had been an age since anyone had awoken these kind of feelings in him.

He didn’t know what it was; the boy’s chiselled torso, his sharp jaw, the beautiful contrast of dark and pale…or none of the above. Magnus had met plenty of beautiful people before, and while having enjoyed it, not been affected so.

Perhaps it had been the enticing aura of innocence that had surrounded him. He felt a tingling in his nerves, the excitement that came with the possibility of new romance.

It was stupid, he knew.

He’d seen the Voyance rune on the back of the boy’s hand, of course he was a Shadowhunter. In other words, off limits.

But he hadn’t looked at Magnus with the same haughty contempt that he’d come to expect from others. He’d even been sympathetic…

But still, no.

He was obviously shy, Magnus even doubted whether or not he’d caught on to his flirting. And even if he had, he hadn’t – or wouldn’t have – reciprocated. It was highly unlikely that he desired other men and even if Magnus was so lucky, the boy’s society would shun him for it. Especially since he was most likely a member of the elite. Maybe the second son of a Lord or something. The name Alec didn’t ring any bells.

Oh well.

Just another two days, then he’d be away from Alicante, grumpy Kings and confusingly attractive boys.

He made his way back to his Guesthouse slowly, passing the statue of Will on the way. He suppressed a grin. They’d gotten him all wrong. He made a note to mention it to Tessa.

He sauntered up to his front door, saluting the Guard who stood with a look of surprise frozen onto his face, but stood aside to let him through.

Magnus grinned. Had they really expected one measly – and obviously un-runed – Shadowhunter to contain him?

It was still strange for him to see Shadowhunters with smooth, unblemished skin, though it had been over a century. Knights would sometimes rune up for battle, but there hadn’t been much cause to since the Mortal War. Runes had been used to bring Valentine down, but that had been over sixteen years ago and they had long since faded into barely-there silver scars.

He stopped in front of the mirror, contemplating his reflection. It would be dinner soon, and he’d been invited to dine with the Royal family. No doubt that would be a barrel of fun, Magnus thought sarcastically.

He snapped his fingers, summoning the brightest and most bejewelled outfit he owned.

He was never going to be accepted by the Shadowhunters…but at least he could have fun toying with their pompous disdain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Malec first encounters so so much...they're probably my favourite part of any fic :D please let me know what you think of this so far, it is definitely the biggest writing project I've ever undertaken...I'm still planning out the finer details but its going to be loooong...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dining with the Royal Family…what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this AU is kind of set in Medieval Times, but a little different. I’m attributing the functioning of showers and modern stuff like that to advanced plumbing/a little magic :)

Alec stepped out of the shower, shivering when the cool air hit his skin.

He felt almost feverish – he wasn’t sure whether that was the after-effect of over-exercising, or his run-in with the Warlock.

If the former, it wasn’t the first time. He had a habit of working out his frustrations.

If the latter…well, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. It must be excitement, he reasoned. He’d never met a Warlock before, and Magnus was just so…normal. In terms of his presence, anyway. In every other way – appearance, attractiveness, confidence…he was most decidedly _ab_ normal.

He dried quickly, reaching into his closet for his normal attire, then froze.

Magnus had been invited to dinner. Should he try to look a little more presentable?

He cast a critical eye over his array of garments.

There was nothing even remotely interesting. The brightest thing he owned was a burgundy winter cape his mother had ordered for him. He’d worn it once, at her behest, and it had remained crumpled underneath his other normal black cloaks ever since.

He shook his head.

What was he doing?

Magnus had been complimentary, certainly. But it had to be a simple personality quirk. In any case, he’d complimented him when he’d been tired and sweaty, clad only in loose cotton pants and a sleeveless shirt.

He pulled out a dark green tunic, ignoring the pesky little thought that told him it was the exact shade of Magnus’s eyes, if only much duller.

He paired it with his regular dark leather breeches, cinching the tunic in with a woven belt, cream leather and bronze.

He smoothed his hair down and left, eager to see Magnus again.

Anything that made his usually silent, stoic family dinners more interesting was most welcome.

 

.

 

Magnus made his way into the Castle, appreciating the rosy glow of the sky as the sun set behind him. Alicante was beautiful, he reasoned. If that was all he would enjoy during his stay, then that was enough.

He nodded to the Guards outside the formal dining room as they opened the doors for him…and froze.

The King and Queen were seated at opposite ends of the long table, dressed as finely as he – albeit much less vibrantly – and wearing their usual expressions of discontent.

Princess Isabelle was sitting along one side; he hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet, but he’d heard of her beauty. The tales were solidly founded. With smooth, creamy skin and glossy dark hair, he didn’t doubt that she was likely one of the most beautiful women in all of Idris. There was an empty seat next to her, clearly where he was to be sat.

Opposite Isabelle sat the King’s adopted son, the young Lord Herondale, Magnus remembered. He could not, however, remember the boy’s first name.

He was very handsome, Magnus conceded, with shining golden curls and the most unusual golden eyes to match. However, his expression was one of bored vanity – Magnus could tell that he knew exactly how attractive he was.

Still, he might have held Magnus’s attention for the duration of the dinner – if not for the boy seated next to him, the very reason for Magnus’s current incapability to move.

It was Alec.

A name for which he now realised, of course, was short for Alexander.

 _Prince_ Alexander.

Magnus had flirted with the Prince.

And failed to greet him properly.

He wasn’t often rendered speechless, but as Alec – _Alexander,_ he corrected himself – glanced up, their eyes meeting, he could feel the blush that spread across the Prince’s fair cheeks mirrored upon his own.

Magnus felt both joy and disappointment at once – joy, that the flush on the boy’s cheeks earlier hadn’t been due to the exercise. He thought that he’d seen a flash of interest in his eyes, but one could never be sure. However, there was no possibility of courting him now. None at all.

“Warlock Bane.”

The King’s deep voice cut through the silent tension, jolting him out of the tableau.

“We are pleased that you could join us.”

His voice was so flat that Magnus wouldn't have believed him even it hadn’t been dripping with derision.

“I prefer Magnus,” he answered, sweeping into the room after shaking himself internally. He could rescue his dignity, at least. “Warlock Bane sounds like I’m hundreds of years old…which I am, of course, but I don’t look it.”

He dropped into his chair elegantly, sending a wink at Isabelle, who was grinning delightedly at him.

“Your highness.” He bowed his head. “I am most enchanted to make your acquaintance.”

“Warlock Ba – Magnus, I mean,” she bowed her head demurely. “The pleasure is all mine! And might I add,” her voice dropped conspiratorially. “Your attire is incredible.”

He grinned, pleased.

“Why, thank you, Princess. I aim to impress.”

“Isabelle, please.” She returned his smile.

Magnus didn’t let his surprise show, but he thought that he just might have made a friend. In the royal family! He supposed that stranger things had happened.

He lifted his head to where Isabelle was gesturing across the table.

“This is my brother, Lord Jonathon Herondale – but call him Jace,”

The blonde cocked a smile and lifted a hand in greeting, his eyes alight with curiosity.

“And this is my brother, the Crown Prince Alexander. He likes to be known as Alec.”

The corners of Alec’s mouth turned up in a little smile, but he only met Magnus’s gaze for a moment before dropping his head.

“Of course.” Magnus bowed his head to each of them.

“Delighted to make your acquaintances, Lord Herondale, Prince Alexander.”

Perhaps his voice sounded a little cool and Alec seemed to notice as he jerked his head up questioningly. Magnus forced himself to look away. It was best if he didn’t engage the Prince in any more conversation than was necessary. However beautiful he might be…he was heir to the throne. Aka – off limits.

He was momentarily distracted from his internal struggle as a gaggle of chefs poured in, placing steaming bowls of soup in front of them, along with platters of crisp, buttery bread. Magnus sniffed appreciatively before tucking in. The silence however, did not last long.

“So, Magnus…” The young Lord – Jace – didn’t sound at all hesitant in using his first name. “Have you discovered the thief?”

Magnus opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off.

“You are not to speak of such matters at dinner, Jonathon.” If Magnus’s voice was cool, the Queen’s was icy.

He blinked.

“It’s quite alright, your Majesty. It is their home too, they have a right to know who has trespassed.”

She looked astounded, her mouth forming a razor thin line. He took pleasure in having shocked her, and turned back to Jace.

“However, I’m afraid that magic does not normally work that way, not if you are skilled. And whomever broke into the vault was exceptionally skilled, it seems.”

“So it was a Warlock, then?” Isabelle sounded excited.

“Perhaps. But not necessarily. There are others who can wield magic – Vampires have some power, and even Shadowhunters, if runes are utilised, or they seek a Warlocks aid.”

“So it could be anyone, then?” Alec spoke for the first time, a slight frown on his face. The question was directed at Magnus, but Alec seemed to be looking anywhere but.

“I think we can rule out the people in this room, at least.” Magnus replied, drily. “Unless you have something to confess?”

Alec coloured. “Of course not.”

“Well, you know more Warlocks and Vampires than we do. Do you suspect anyone?”

“Jonathon.” The King glared at him. “This is not appropriate. The Warlock and I have already spoken of this.”

“We have.” Magnus played with his cutlery, deep in thought. “I have, however, had some time to mull it over…there is a particular person I would be predisposed to investigate.”

The King turned his cold glare on him.

Magnus let the suspense hold for a moment, wondering whether or not it was smart to divulge his suspicions. He’d been hearing of things lately, things that hadn’t necessarily been cause for concern…until the sword had been stolen.

“Valentine.”

He lifted his head to look at the King, ignoring the shocked gasp from the other end of the table.

He looked caught between anger and surprise. Magnus wondered idly if there was a ban on speaking the name, and although capital punishment had been long outlawed, if the King might make an exception for him. It had certainly been a long time since a look of such hatred had been directed at him.

“Impossible.” He growled, after a long silence. “Valentine is locked up. The Silent Brothers guard him.”

Magnus looked at him pityingly.

“Valentine had everything ripped away from him.”

Memories clawed their way to the surface, sharp in detail. Sixteen years passed in the blink of an eye to an immortal like him.

“Do you remember how he was? Violent, passionate, determined…he would have torn the world apart to claim what he thought should be his. He almost did – and would have succeeded, if not for Jocelyn.”

“And Jocelyn’s sacrifice was not in vain. Valentine is done.”

Robert looked more than angry now. By the faces of his three children, Magnus guessed that he had never spoken to them about it.

He bowed his head.

“Indeed, it was not. She ensured the safety of many. For both our kinds. But as for Valentine…he is not dead. And I fear that only death will stop a man such as he.”

“It is impossible to escape the City of Bones.”

Jace’s voice broke through.

“It may be.” Magnus acquiesced. “Or it may not be. Just because it has never been done before, does not mean it is impossible. However,” he added, because he was going to anyway, not because Alec was now looking scared. “I am not suggesting that Valentine has escaped. Only that he may have been behind this theft. Through another.”

Isabelle frowned.

“How would he have contacted someone from inside?”

Magnus pursed his lips.

“That, I cannot say. Just that magic is fickle, clever. It can do almost anything if you are willing to pay the price. And I fear that there is not much Valentine wouldn’t pay.”

“Enough.”

The Queen’s voice interrupted them, soft but deadly.

“Warlock Bane, I do not appreciate you frightening my children.”

“We have a right to know – ” Jace protested.

“The truth.” Maryse continued, calmly. “And this is all merely speculation. There is no need to lose our heads over it, especially since the suspect in question is currently serving his sentence inside the most impenetrable fortress in the world.”

“I agree.” Robert said. “Warlock Bane, if you have nothing else of value to add, then your services are concluded. You are free to return home tomorrow.”

Magnus raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Isabelle sat fuming next to him, and Jace looked furious. But neither of them could override their parents. He could feel Alec’s eyes on him, but refused the urge to meet his gaze. He knew when he’d been beaten.

“Of course. My thanks for your generous hospitality.”

 

.

 

The rest of the dinner continued silently, each of them immersed in their own thoughts.

Alec fought a silent battle inside, wishing he’d had the courage to speak out against his parents on Magnus’s behalf. Every time they had spoken to him he’d cringed inside; how could Magnus stand such disrespect? He’d looked so calm, so blasé…Alec wondered if he was used to this kind of thing, and despaired in a world where he’d have to have learned to affect such nonchalance. It wasn’t right.

He could tell that at least his siblings shared his discomfort, to some extent.

Both Izzy and Jace refused to meet their parents’ eyes, and Magnus was avoiding his.

It was driving him crazy: all he wanted was for Magnus to _look_ at him, so that somehow, he could let him know that he did not share the same views as his parents.

He wasn’t sure why it was so important to him.

But Magnus had treated him differently all evening, reserved and blunt where before he’d been open and bright.

He’d seen his hesitation when he’d first entered the dining room. Alec wouldn’t blame him for resenting all royalty, or even all Shadowhunters, if this was the treatment he’d learned to expect from them.

Perhaps Magnus hadn’t realised that he was royalty. He rarely wore his family crest, after all.

But then – Alec reminded himself – it really didn’t matter. Magnus would be gone, and they wouldn’t cross paths again.

Even so, he couldn’t help the urge to jump up as Magnus rose at the end of their dinner, swiftly exiting after his parents.

He didn’t, though.

He tried to banish all thoughts of the Warlock in his mind, but found it quite the impossible feat.

Even hours later, after they’d retired to their rooms, his head still swam.

He thought over everything that Magnus had said, his warnings.

Was his father a fool to disregard them, however outlandish they may seem? He’d always had the utmost trust and respect for his father; for all his faults as a parent, he had proven time and time again to be a wise and able King.

But now…both trust and respect wavered.

And the thing was…it didn’t even feel new.

Alec wondered when he’d begun nurturing misgivings toward his parents.

He lay there for a long time, his thoughts warring inside his head. Eventually he slept, albeit fitfully, awaking with the first light of morning.

He’d been granted a few hours reprieve; it had seemed, with a dreamless sleep.

But upon waking, all his thoughts and worries came flooding back.

His heart jumped into his throat as he realised that Magnus would be leaving today.

He’d decided, though it was against everything he’d ever done, that it was too foolish not to heed Magnus’s words.

He barely knew him, didn’t know if he could trust him, but as the future King of Idris Alec felt a certain responsibility.

He jumped out of bed, pulling on the first clothes his hands landed on, racing through corridors and down the Great Staircase.

“Ah, Alexander.”

He whirled round, only feet from the door, to see his father standing under an archway, a frown on his face.

“Wherever are you going, at this hour?”

“Just…I thought…the Warlock…” he mumbled, only succeeding in increasing his father’s frown.

“A mistake to invite him here, I know. Not to worry though, he’s already left. I saw him out myself.”

Alec struggled not to look disappointed.

Robert shook his head, not noticing Alec’s reaction.

“We do, however, still require the services of a Warlock. I’ve sent out a general summons, I hope we’ll next entertain one of better graces.”

“So early, to have achieved so much.” Alec said, weakly.

His father just nodded briskly.

“As you’ll have to learn, Alexander, Politics never sleeps. As King, you will always be working.”

Alec said nothing.

“It helps, of course, to have a strong support system.” Robert continued, eyeing him. “Your mother may not be the one in power but she has been invaluable to me, since long before I ascended.”

Alec’s heart beat faster as he caught onto his father’s meaning. His throat felt dry.

“If you have no objections, I would very much recommend that Lady Lydia will be able to provide you with the same support that I’ve enjoyed.”

“But…Jace…” Alec protested, weakly.

“Jonathon has informed me that his attachment to Lady Branwell was but a fleeting fancy. She never entertained his attentions. And while she would make him a good wife also – Jonathon wishes to join the army. It would be a waste for a Lady such as she to be left alone for such long periods of time.”

Alec felt as though the floor were unstable beneath him. He gulped, unable to get enough air to his lungs.

“Objections?” His father pressed.

Alec shook his head, glaring at the floor.

“Wonderful.” Robert clapped his hands. “I will meet with Lord Branwell to negotiate the details. We will speak of this more later.”

Alec leaned back against the wall, feeling a cloak of cold dread settling over his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my work! 
> 
> There is going to be a LOT of Malec in this, but I'm building up the story in these first few chapters so bear with me...also its going to be a slow burn. Like, really slow. But it will be worth it, I promise ;)
> 
> I hope you've all had a beautiful day, much love to you all :D <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down. Well, more shit than has gone down already....basically, things are gonna get veryyy very bad before they get better :D enjoy!

The day after Magnus left, the new Warlock arrived.

Alec woke later than usual, having spent almost the entire previous day wearing himself out in the training fields, trying to forget everything that had transpired over the past few days.

It had worked to some extent – he’d exhausted himself so thoroughly that he’d passed out as soon as his head had hit the pillow, granting him a whole night’s reprieve from the twin spectres of his engagement and the theft that had been hanging over him.

During the waking hours, however, he was granted no such thing.

Still, catching sight of the new Warlock provided a welcome distraction.

She looked nothing like Magnus, yet Alec could sense something about her…a quality, if you will, that he recognised Magnus had possessed too. He supposed it must be the magic. Their aura of power.

She was fairly petite, and her figure fuller than the lean, long legged Shadowhunter girls he knew. She had darker skin like Magnus, and darker hair too, but the shades were not the same. Her eyes were a warm brown and her lips seemed to curve up naturally.

Alec felt relaxed in her presence, even though it reminded him of how callously Magnus had been dismissed. She seemed to radiate geniality. He hoped, for her sake, that his father found her tolerable.

Her name was Dorothea, he discovered, though she introduced herself as Dot. She seemed quiet and serene, was unfailingly polite and Alec was relieved to see the approval in his fathers’ eyes as she left the hall to go and investigate the vault.

Jace and Izzy had both been present in the crowd of people when she’d arrived, unlike with Magnus.

However, neither of them of them looked particularly happy. Izzy excused herself as soon as she was able, looking much more demure than usual in a gown of lavender and cream, her hair pulled back instead of the wild curls she usually left free.

“Alexander.”

His father beckoned from his throne.

Alec approached, swallowing.

“Lord Branwell will be paying us a visit today.” He seemed not to notice Alec paling.

“Lydia will be with him, and I have arranged a consort of guards to escort you both around the grounds. It would bode well for your future if you begin to familiarise yourselves with one another as soon as possible.”

Alec didn’t hear half of what his father said. It took all of his focus to stand there and nod along, to play the part of the perfect prince as he had been doing all his life. Recently, however, that part had become significantly harder to play.

“Is that alright?” Robert asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Oh, um yes. Yes father.”

The King nodded and Alec turned away, squaring his shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

Jace asked quietly, catching his expression.

Alec laughed humourlessly.

“I should be asking you that.” He frowned. “This all happened so fast…I’m really sorry –”

Jace grinned ruefully.

“Alec, it’s fine. Well, for me, anyway. She was a passing fancy. I don’t think she was into me at all…I guess agreeing to marry you is confirmation of that, anyway.” He winked playfully.

Alec shook his head.

“I’m not sure. She probably had as much say in it as I did.”

“I doubt she was forced into this, Alec. What woman wouldn’t want to be Queen? And I guess marrying you wouldn’t be too bad, either.” He grinned, causing Alec to flush.

 “Well, maybe we can be friends. She seems nice enough, she’s friends with Izzy so she can’t be that bad…perhaps we won’t despise each other, at the very least…”

Jace laughed.

“Oh, Alec. I don’t envy this situation of yours, but really…only you would make the prospect of marrying a pretty, young woman sound like a prison sentence.” He grinned. “It could have been much worse – she could have been ugly!”

He clapped Alec on the shoulder and sauntered his way out of the hall, the sunlight making his golden hair gleam.

Alec swallowed his shame.

Soon, his feelings wouldn’t matter at all. At least when he was married, he wouldn’t have to worry about the prospect of courting women anymore.

 

.

 

Alec stood awkwardly outside their Castle alongside his mother and father, waiting for the Branwell’s carriage to pull up.

He had been ordered into a stiff, uncomfortable ensemble comprising of a starched white shirt complete with ruffles… _ruffles,_ he bristled internally…and burnished brass buttons, smooth cream coloured breeches that were far too tight for his liking, and a royal blue overcoat decorated with golden tassles and the Lightwood crest sewn onto the front pocket.

He swallowed, fighting the urge to pull at his collar, its stiffness irritating the soft skin at the base of his neck.

He didn’t have much time to despair over his clothes, however, because all too soon a carriage was pulling up in front of them.

A doorman rushed forward to help, standing back as the Branwell’s stepped down.

Alec forced his mouth into a smile, hoping that it didn’t look too much like a grimace. He moved forward, bowing before Lydia.

“My Lady.”

She curtsied, inclining her head.

“Your Highness.”

She was truly beautiful, Alec acquiesced. Her golden hair was a shade or two lighter than Jace’s, complementing her ivory skin and light blue eyes. It was pulled back into a complicated chignon, a style Alec had seen on Isabelle several times before. Her gown too, was pretty, a pale pink and white creation, complete with a satiny bodice and full skirt, showing off her womanly figure.

Alec cringed internally as he imagined that her mother had chosen it with the intention of enticing him – though the engagement had already been accepted by both families, he could pull out if he wanted to. Hypothetically. Realistically, only if his father decided that another young lady would be more suitable.

A wave of shame washed over him as it occurred to him that such marriages as the one he was to go through were little more than dressed up auctions; in which girls were dolled up and paraded before eligible gentlemen of a marriageable age. He felt more ashamed too, as he thought how their efforts were quite wasted on him.

“Would you care for a turn about the grounds, my Lady?” He murmured the words his mother had instructed him, offering his arm out to her.

She inclined her head, taking his arm.

Jace had been quite wrong, Alec thought, as they walked slowly along followed by a pair of guards ten paces behind.

Lydia didn’t seem at all happy at the prospect of marrying him, if her rigid posture and frosty expression were anything to go by.

“How are you enjoying your time in Alicante, my Lady?” Alec asked hesitantly but decisively. 

They’d been walking for only a few minutes, but the cold silence had made it seem like hours. He was already submitting himself to an arranged marriage, but he’d be damned if their whole lives were going to be spent ignoring each other.

“Lydia, please.” Her voice was quiet, but strong. “I don’t care much for titles.”

Alec was pleasantly surprised.

“Neither do I – I prefer to be called Alec.”

She smiled, then.

“That’s what Izzy said.”

“Oh, right. Have you known my sister long?”

She paused, a shadow crossing her expression.

“A few months.” She glanced at him. “It’s a relatively new acquaintance.”

He nodded, lapsing back into silence.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” he said softly, to make sure the guards weren’t able to hear. “If you don’t care for titles, why…”

She stopped, casting an eye around to make sure they were alone. Satisfied, she turned to look at him, for the first time. He was surprised to see the pain in her eyes.

“My parents.”

She didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t ask her too.

“Me too.” He confessed, and she laughed, a short rueful sound.

“So we are both the reluctant rulers, then. Or we will be, anyway.”

Alec frowned. He hadn’t said anything about not wishing to rule.

“How did you…oh. Isabelle.”

She smiled apologetically.

“Look, Alec…I know this may not be what you were expecting, in a marriage…and you can always end this, I won’t be offended if you’d rather someone else. But if it is to be you and me…can we be friends? It’s just,” she continued hastily, when he began to open his mouth. “I’m not sure that I can offer you much more.”

Alec was shocked. Was this his lucky day?

“Friends sounds great.” He managed to say. “Nothing more is expected, I promise.”

Their walk continued comfortably, Alec barely noticing where they were going in his haze of relief. Of course, there would be other obstacles to overcome…like the issue of children…but such things didn’t need to be talked about right now. He could deal with those later.

He didn’t notice anything or anyone else around them until he heard a small gasp.

Lydia had pulled to a stop, the hand around his arm tightening almost imperceptibly.

He followed the direction of her gaze to a frozen figure in the doorway to the stables.

She was dressed in much the same garb as he had found her in on the day of the Joust, but this time her cap was gone, her dark hair spilling out over her shoulders. The Guards coughed and pointedly looked away, but Isabelle didn’t seem to notice. She gaze was focused on Lydia, the pain in her eyes evident to Alec even from a distance away. She remained for a long moment before breaking the gaze and running off toward the Castle.

Lydia remained still after she left, her pale face marred by twin spots of pink in her cheeks.

Alec didn’t know what to say.

All he knew was that he could no longer marry her.

Again he thought of how much he’d missed of Isabelle’s life recently. Had she really been that discreet, or had he been too wrapped up in his own life, his own problems to see what was truly going in front of him?

He didn’t know when it had begun, or how they’d gotten to this point – but he knew without any doubt that his sister was in love with his fiancé.

“We should go back.” He said quietly.

Lydia jerked, as though she’d forgotten he was there. She gazed at him for one long moment, her expression hard, as though challenging him to say something.

He didn’t, though. He wouldn’t tell her in so many words, but he more than understood what it was like to keep secrets. And to want to keep on keeping them, even after it was obvious that you had been found out.

He would keep their secret, until he found a way to make it work for them all.

 

.

 

Alec walked Lydia back the Castle, seeing her and her parents off in their carriage.

He felt conflicted.

What was he going to do?

He’d just discovered that he rather liked Lydia, and the prospect of marrying her had seemed a much less daunting task. However, with what he knew now, of his sister’s apparent feelings for her – which, if he wasn’t mistaken, were very much reciprocated – he felt torn up again.

He couldn’t marry Lydia and break his sister’s heart; it just wasn’t going to happen.

But neither could he break off the engagement without a viable excuse.

He didn’t realise that his feet were taking him to Isabelle’s room until he was there, raising a hand to knock on the door.

“She’s not there, your Highness.” A maid called, pausing in her sweeping of the floor. “She went to the library, I believe.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Alec turned back down the corridor, heading for the library.

Izzy and Jace were both there when he arrived, laughing together.

Her face brightened when she saw him. He furrowed his brow, confused.

“Big brother! How was the walk?”

“Um. Fine.” He took a seat opposite them, beside one of the bay windows. Jace laughed.

“Just ‘fine’?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“We were accompanied the whole time.” Alec replied, drily. “Yes, it was fine. She seems nice.”

He flicked his gaze to Isabelle, who had changed into a dress and was idly examining the ends of her hair.

“Is everything…” he paused, searching for a delicate way to put it. “okay…with you guys?”

Isabelle glanced up, giving him a little smile.

“Of course.”

He nodded, still confused. He didn’t, however, want to push the matter. His sister did seem fine, but then Alec knew she was a master of hiding her feelings. He didn’t quite know what to say.

He’d just opened his mouth to tell her that he’d call off the engagement, if that was what she wanted, when they were interrupted by a small cough.

The three of them looked round to see the new Warlock – Dot – Alec reminded himself standing there, biting her lip and twisting her hands.

“Yes?” Alec said, through his surprise.

She too, had seemed to have shaken her guards. He wondered, not for the first time, why it was Shadowhunters ruling, when other beings were clearly more powerful.

Her dark gaze flicked over them and around the library, wide and anxious.

“Your Highnesses.” She began, quietly. “I have some things to tell you, if you’d wish to hear them.”

Alec furrowed his brow.

“Go on.”

“I answered the summons sent out by your father…because Magnus asked me to.”

Alec’s expression of shock was mirrored on his siblings. Isabelle was the first to recover.

“Magnus sent you?” She asked, intrigued.

Dot nodded, glancing from side to side as though to check for eavesdroppers.

“The situation is…more dire than he believes your father will accept.”

“Tell us.” Jace commanded, not unpolitely. He was sitting up sharp, his jaw squared.

She swallowed, wringing her hands.

“I owe a life debt to Magnus.” She said, eventually. “Or I would not be here, in your castle.”

Her gaze hardened and Alec could only imagine what she’d suffered under the hands of Shadowhunters. Her welcome geniality from earlier seemed to have vanished; she was all hard lines and fiery power.

“Sixteen years ago, Valentine captured me. He imprisoned me in his basement. He…did things.” She paused, as though expecting them to interrupt. They didn’t.

“He injected me with substances…poisonous substances that burned. He said they were demonic, and shouldn’t hurt me because I’m a demon too. But they burned, and the pain was more intense than anything I’d ever felt before. We Warlocks may have been sired by demons, but we are not our fathers…we had mortal mothers, we were born in this world, we belong in this world…we are not demons.” She finished, softly.

Alec was pale. He’d never heard of Valentines crimes in such depth before. Isabelle had tears in her eyes.

“Jocelyn – Valentines wife – saved me when she betrayed him. Magnus helped her. They freed me, and Magnus helped Jocelyn escape. I went with her.”

Jace’s eyes narrowed.

“But…Jocelyn’s dead. She died in the house fire.”

Dot looked at him sympathetically.

“For some reason, perhaps because he never killed a Nephilim – or was never convicted of doing so, at least – your father decided that imprisonment was a just punishment for Valentine. But Jocelyn knew better. She knew the monster she had married. She knew that he would escape, and he would come after her. So she faked her death, and we fled.”

They sat in silence, letting her story sink in. Alec was the first to break it.

“Why are you telling us this?”

He frowned, trying to think of a reason she might lie to them.

“You are the King’s children. If he will not listen to a Warlock, perhaps he will listen to you.”

“What do you want us to tell him? That Valentine is trying to escape? Even if he does, we will hunt him down and kill him. It’d be a death sentence.”

She shook her head, her expression grim.

“Valentine had a plan, a plan he confided only to Jocelyn. She hoped that he would never get the chance to enact it, but when she heard of the stolen sword she feared the worst may be coming to pass. Valentine is reuniting the Mortal Instruments.”

Jace looked confused.

“Why?”

“To control demons.”

“Demons cannot enter this realm.”

“He did not tell her this part, but he believed he had found a way to break the wards. If he wields the Mortal Instruments, he can control demons, bid them to murder all Downworlders then seal up the world once more.”

Isabelle gasped.

“But… _why_? Why would he wish such a thing?”

Dot looked sorry for her.

“I cannot attempt to understand the mind of such a man, your Highness.” She said gently. “But is he not acting upon the latent beliefs of all your kind?”

“We don’t hate Downworlders.” Alec cut in, his voice strangled. “We don’t want them to die.”

“Maybe not, but you fear them. Us.”

“We don’t – ” Jace started.

“If you don’t, then you are among the best of your kind, young Lord.” She smiled at him. “I can see why Magnus chose you three for this message. In any case, some Shadowhunters will not protest his crusade. They might not like his methods, but his result would please them. But he won’t stop there. He will overthrow your father, probably wiping out your family. He will crown himself, and the Nephilim will have to bow to his rule. Then he will turn to Mundanes, and their world.”

Isabelle drew a shaky breath, but her voice was solid.

“What can we do?”

“Try and convince your father that he is still a threat. To _all_ of us.”

Alec shook his head.

“He’ll never believe it.”

“And he can’t succeed, anyway.” Jace cut in, his brow furrowed in thought. “He may have the sword, or someone working for him may have, but the cup has been lost since the Mortal War, and no-one knows where the mirror is.”

“Then someone must find them before he does.” She sounded desperate, begging them to understand. “Your father must utilise his forces to find them.”

They fell quiet, processing her words.

Alec thought of what would happen if they told his father what she had told them. He couldn’t for a moment imagine him heeding the warning of a Downworlder. His father was much too stoic, much too distrusting.

Alec could understand why, but he had never shared the same prejudices. He hadn’t known either Magnus or Dot for long, but he didn’t doubt them for a moment.

Even so, he didn’t see what they could do.

Perhaps hope that the cup and the mirror would evade Valentines cronies forever?

His thoughts were interrupted by a great clanging sound that startled them all.

“What the…”

Jace began, flushing slightly at having been so thoroughly startled.

“It’s the warning bell.”

Izzy replied, looking confused.

“The last time it was used…”

She trailed off, the persistent clanging ominous.

They jumped up, running out of the library, toward the Great Hall.

It was packed, Shadowhunters and servants alike, pouring in from all around the castle.

Alec darted through the crowd after Isabelle, finding his father stood before them, his face like thunder.

Silence fell as he stepped up onto the podium in front of his throne, looking out over the confused faces.

He kept it short and simple, but in those few seconds, all their lives changed.

“Valentine has escaped the Silent City. Many Silent Brothers are dead. We are now at war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo this is what I classify as 'part 1' and it is DONE, so next chap we get into the real exciting stuff...and possibly the return of everybody's favourite Warlock ;)
> 
> I'm pretty much freewheeling this fic as much as Magnus freewheels his sexuality...I have the whole GENERAL plan in my head but haven't written down specifics so really I just start writing and see where it takes me. So if there's something you liked, or didn't like, or would maybe like to see...please let me know and I just may incorporate it :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the adventure begins... ;)

Hell broke loose in the crowd.

Shouting, screaming, jostling, angry and confused faces.

Alec grabbed hold of Isabelle’s arm, dragging her against him. He was alert, every muscle in his body tense. Guards were moving through the crowd, attempting to restore order.

It was a lost cause, though.

Everything had changed now. The peace they had taken for granted for so long had been shattered. Their power had been compromised.

Alec had only been two years old when Valentine had been locked behind bars. He didn’t hold any memory of the time when he’d first threatened them, but the fear he’d instilled among people was clear in their eyes when they spoke of him, in hushed tones, as though one would speak of the dead.

But Valentine wasn’t dead.

He was alive, and now he was free…free to enact the terrible plans Dot had confided in them.

Alec didn’t know if he had the tools to accomplish it, or if the evil he planned was even possible.

But he did know that nothing good would come of a world in which Valentine Morgenstern was free once more.

He pushed his way through the crowd, grabbing Jace’s sleeve with his other hand.

Together, the three of them slipped through.

No-one cared to see them go – they were heading for the doors, while everyone else’s attention was still on the King.

Gasping, they plunged into the deserted hallway, their hearts racing.

Izzy looked at them with wide, fearful eyes.

“What now?”

Alec was at a loss.

He didn’t know what to do…didn’t know what they _could_ do.

Jace’s expression was uncharacteristically grave.

“Alec. We have to stop him.”

Alec’s head was spinning. His heart was beating fast, the fear pulsing through his veins a living breathing thing that had ensnared the entire crowd they’d left behind.

“Who?” He asked, as though in a daze.

He was flicking through increasingly dire scenarios in his mind, from Valentine massacring all the Downworlders in front of him – and Magnus’s and Dot’s bodies swan to the forefront of his mind, broken and bloodied – to him having to watch as Valentine murdered his entire family, laughing and plucking the crown from his father’s cold, lifeless corpse before turning the sword upon Alec.

“ _Valentine_.” Jace whispered, grasping his forearm, shaking him out of his terrible visions. “Alec, what Dot said…we can’t let that happen.”

“But, dad…” he said weakly. “The army…”

“Jace is right, Alec.” Izzy looked fierce. “Father has good intentions, but you saw how he sent Magnus away for merely speaking of Valentine. She can’t say anything to him and neither can we - ”

“He might listen to us.” Alec protested.

“Even if he does, what is he going to do about it? He won’t seek out Downworlder help, but we’re in this together. It’s them he’ll go for first, Robert will let that happen as long as Shadowhunters aren’t in danger.”

Jace’s words were firm, though his eyes were fearful. None of them liked facing the truth about their parents, or their species at large. But looking at his siblings’ determined expressions, Alec felt something inside him give way. It was no longer enough to believe in the power of his father, in his kindness and goodness. Jace _was_ right, and though his father would expend all forces under his control to recapture Valentine, there was little chance he would join forces with Downworlders to bring him down. Would pride be their downfall?

“What can we do?” He asked, quietly.

Izzy beamed, her eyes lighting up, and Alec felt a twinge of shame.

“You didn’t think I’d be ok with the mass genocide of Downworlders, did you?” He grumbled.

“Well… _no,_ of course not, big brother. But you have always followed the rules.”

“Yeah.” Jace grinned. “And this is like…so not following the rules. Like, the complete _opposite_ of following the rules. Like, imagine the worst thing you could - ”

“I get it, Jace.” Alec cut him off, glaring at his adopted brother. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Anyway,” Izzy continued. “You would hardly look at Magnus at dinner. You didn’t say anything. For all we knew, you could have felt the same way as dad.”

Alec was astounded, a flush creeping up onto his cheeks.

“That wasn’t – I didn’t – it’s – nevermind.”

He ducked his head, ignoring their amused gazes. He sighed.

“Look, let’s just take this conversation somewhere a little more private, ok?”

He glanced back toward the doors to the Great Hall, where the clamour seemed to be steadily increasing.

Jace and Izzy both nodded their confirmation, following him in his haste down the hall and up the grand staircase.

Soon he was shutting the door behind them, pacing the length of his room as they dropped onto his bed.

“Right.” He began. “What can we do?”

He looked to Jace, a little wild-eyed.

Truth be told, he didn’t have a clue what they could do, if anything. He didn’t bother suggesting that they find Dot; she’d told them all she knew, and he guessed that she’d have fled as soon as the warning bell had tolled. Surely she’d known what the news would be. So that left them on their own. Three unruned, untrained – well in Izzy’s case, and for him and Jace, they’d never actually been in a battle – Shadowhunter teenagers. Against the biggest threat to their world in the last hundred years; a deranged megalomaniac who’d managed to escape a previously impenetrable fortress and who apparently had powerful, magical beings on his side – not to mention the Mortal Sword.

Izzy’s lips were pressed into a thin line and Jace was frowning. Neither of them spoke.

Alec sighed.

“Look. Why don’t we start in the library? There has to be something on the Mortal Instruments, where the cup or mirror might be…maybe if we find something concrete, we can go to dad and he’ll do something about it.”

He sounded more sure of himself than he felt, but his insides were twisting, roiling, restless. His siblings were right; they had to do _something_.

Jace and Izzy both stood up, nodding their confirmation.

 

.

 

Twilight had fallen and Alec watched the pale moon glinting in the sky though one of the windows in the library, blinking desperately. Blurred words swam in front of his eyes, a mound of heavy, dusty books piled on the table in front of him.

Similar piles lay before Jace and Izzy, their brows furrowed as they forced themselves to keep reading.

All day had been spent in the library, searching – apparently in vain – for something _…_ a description, a mention… _anything_ to do with the Mortal Instruments and if Valentine would be able to use them to enact his nefarious plans.

Alec had come up blank.

All day the Castle had been a hive of grim activity; people rushing here and there all with the same expression on their faces. Knights from all over Idris had been arriving; Alec had never known their home to have been filled to full capacity, but with all the extra soldiers, noblemen and advisors, it had happened.

As heir to the throne he’d been required to sit in on a meeting with his father’s council, but then had been dismissed as they’d gotten into plans of protection and attack.

He’d hurriedly joined his siblings in the library, where they’d already looked tired and hassled.

No news had arrived since the escape, but it was only a matter of time. It felt like the entire castle was holding its breath, waiting for the first blow to fall.

Alec wondered what would happen if they just gave up; admitted defeat.

His mind just kept on supplying him with increasingly grim and dismal images of a world in which Valentine had succeeded, when Izzy gasped.

He jumped, running to kneel by her table.

“What is it?”

Her eyes were lit up, shining on a great, leather bound tome that lay open on her knees.

She turned to grin at him.

“I think I may have found something.”

 

.

 

Alec frowned at the items they’d laid across his floor.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

He said, for what seemed like the millionth time.

Jace just sighed, continuing to polish the sword on his lap.

“Alec, we’ve been through it. Extensively. If you have a better idea, then please.” He gestured the air around him.

It was almost midnight and they’d spent the last few hours carefully copying down the information Izzy had stumbled across, listening to her plan and taking another hour for Alec to vehemently oppose it while Jace beamed, congratulating her on her idea. It had been two to one, so Alec had trailed behind his siblings; “you can be our lookout, ok?” as they’d snuck into the weapons room and slipped what they’d need into a sack. It wasn’t difficult – everyone in the Castle had been sequestered away in various meetings all day. Then he’d helped them to heave it through the maze of secret passages that he hadn’t known existed – but apparently Izzy and Jace were both well familiar with – back to his room, where he currently stood, arms folded disapprovingly, over them.

“If you’re going to sulk, Alec, could you do it whilst packing some clothes?” Izzy glanced at him distractedly from where she sat, carefully winding a wickedly sharp gold electrum whip around a brace on her right arm.

“It should bother me that you know how to do that.” He muttered, but turned to his dresser and did as she said.

Izzy’s plan, he had to admit, whilst crazy and insane and dangerous and likely to be the death of them all, just might work. He knew that if he refused it, they’d go anyway and get themselves killed for certain.

So he’d agreed, if only to keep them both alive. If he could. Which he wasn’t quite sure about, but he’d made his decision so filed that pesky little worry far in the back of his mind.

The massive book she’d been reading had not been so old as it had seemed, at first. It was a compilation of texts on the Mortal Instruments, and while most of it had, admittedly, been written centuries ago and focused on their alleged properties and miracles they’d effected, the last chapter seemed to have been written only one hundred years ago, right after the Mortal War.

It had – annoyingly – glossed over the details of William Herondale wielding the instruments – and failed to mention the mirror at all – but right near the end were the sentences that had caught Izzy’s attention.

_After the deed, William Herondale, Magnus Bane, Ragnor Fell and Catarina Loss all collapsed from the exertion of sealing the Great Shield. It is said that Herondale, wanting nothing more than to be free of the burden he’d borne for so long, bade the Warlocks to hide the Mortal Cup – so that no being of merely heaven or hell might find it again._

“No being of merely heaven or hell?” Jace had read, sceptically. “What does that mean?”

“Maybe that you need to have the blood of heaven and hell to find the Cup?” Izzy suggested. “Like a Seelie does?”

“So the Seelie’s have the Cup, that’s what you’re saying?”

“No, just that maybe one of them _could_ find it. Maybe they’re working with him.”

“He wants to kill them too, why would they work for him?”

“Look, guys.” Alec had interrupted, before their bickering could spiral out of control. “We don’t know exactly what it means, and we have no way of finding out what it means.” He paused.

“So…” Izzy prompted.

“So,” he bit his lip. “Maybe we should go and ask someone who might. Someone who, according to this, helped to hide the Cup.”

She gasped, clapping her hands together.

“Of course! Magnus!”

Alec nodded, ignoring the thoughts that immediately swam to the forefront of his mind when she said his name. He ignored the fact that agreeing to this mission would perhaps mean seeing Magnus again. He still thought it was a bad idea.

He poked around in his dresser, looking for clothes suitable to take.

“Alec, all your stuff is black and boring. Anything will do.” Izzy threw a distracted glance his way.

“My clothes are not boring.” He protested, but she ignored him.

He sighed, grabbing a few plain shirts, a spare pair of thick cotton breeches and a dark cloak.

He shoved them unceremoniously into a bag, turning his attention to the array of weapons on the floor.

“Do we really need all this stuff?” He stepped dubiously over a pair of wickedly sharp throwing stars, dropping down on the floor besides Jace.

“Mmhmm.” Jace replied, distractedly, reaching over to fold the stars into a swath of cloth, then a leather pouch.

“We don’t know what we’re going up against. We need to be prepared.”

Alec sighed.

“I still think this is a – ”

“Bad idea.” Izzy finished for him, rolling her eyes. “We got it. But we have to do this and you know it.”

Alec chewed his lip. “What if we tell dad…”

“Alec.” Izzy’s voice was serious this time, her dark eyes wide and intense. “You know he won’t listen. Or maybe he will, but it’ll likely be too late. The world is in danger, Alec. Not just our world, everyone’s world. We have to do this.”

“And,” Jace added, a devilish smirk on his face. “You have me on your side. Heroism is in my blood.” He winked.

Alec just nodded, burying the niggling possibility that they wouldn’t succeed. That they would never return. Perhaps his siblings were right. And in at least attempting to save the world, perhaps they could regain the glory of who Shadowhunters once were.

It was just as he had this thought that a flash of pearly silver caught his eye.

“Izzy!” He hissed, his eyes wide. “What are you doing with that?!”

“What?” She retorted, defensively. “You honestly think I’m going to walk into danger without having utilised all the defences available to me?”

“No, but this is – we haven’t – we don’t know how to use those!”

She rolled her eyes again.

“Alec, would you please stop worrying. You’re going to give yourself frown lines. The concept is pretty simple, you know.”

She picked up the long thin instrument once more, twirling it before lowering it to her skin. He hastily lunged forward to grab her wrist before the pearly tip could make contact.

“Just…let me do it. Please.” He said, giving in.

She considered for a moment then acquiesced, holding the stele out to him.

His fingers shook as he took a hold of it. Ridiculous, he thought. It wasn’t a weapon, and for centuries it had been something every single Shadowhunter had carried, and used every day. But though he’d seen them, he’d never used one.

He took a deep breath, looking down at the book he hadn’t noticed before, lying open on the floor. The rune on the page didn’t look too complex; apparently it was for agility. He supposed there was no harm in that.

He bit his lip and lowered the stele, keeping her wrist steady with his free hand. He glanced back at the picture once more, then began to draw.

She didn’t flinch, though he knew he was burning her skin. The only sign she showed of any discomfort was a slight, almost imperceptible tightening of the muscles in her arm.

When he was finished he sat back to critique his handiwork.

“How do you feel?” Jace asked, peering at her curiously. He’d paused in his polishing of their weapons to watch.

She was silent for a moment, regarding the blackened, slightly raised mark on her forearm with an almost surprised curiosity.

“Alright.” She said, eventually. “I think you only feel them working when you use them.”

Alec let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

It felt strange, almost as if they’d crossed a line. They hadn’t even left yet, but the act of marking his sister felt like an act from which there was no return. It didn’t matter now if he had apprehensions, they were already on their way. Isabelle’s skin would be marked forever more; even once it had faded it would always be there, a slight silver imperfection upon her otherwise flawless skin.

He looked at the two of them, seeing similar thoughts in their eyes.

Izzy reached forward and flipped through the book, pausing on a rune for super speed. She held her other arm out wordlessly and Alec got to work.

 

.

 

The moon was high in the sky when they were done, and black marks covered their forearms and chests.

They’d decided on runes of angelic power, endurance, courage in combat, stealth and healing in addition to agility and speed. Jace had also chosen a strength rune, Alec a deflect rune he’d let Izzy draw on the side of his neck for maximum efficiency and Izzy a precision rune she said would help if she ever needed to use her whip. Alec hoped that wouldn’t be the case.

They’d managed to hide most of them with their clothes, not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves than was necessary.

Izzy had instructed them into their darkest clothes and they’d each filled a backpack with provisions; a canteen of water, some bread and dried fruit and a healthy array of weapons. Jace had his sword strapped across his back, Alec his bow and quiver and Izzy her hidden whip and collection of throwing knives.

Alec had blanched when she’d strapped on her thigh holster, but one look from her had silenced his protest before he could make one.

They stood looking at each other, fully runed and weaponed up, taking a moment to revel in the safety and silence of their castle. Because once they stepped outside, they knew that such peace was a luxury they could not be sure of.

The castle was tranquil and deserted as they slipped outside, its inhabitants all secured into their rooms. However, they made sure to pull their hoods up over their faces just in case.

Alec’s heart was beating hard as they quietly saddled their horses, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Izzy was uncharacteristically quiet and even Jace’s expression was grim as they mounted and rode away from their home. It may be an adventure, but they all knew the gravity of what they had decided to do, the risk they were taking. But for all his reticence, all his misgivings, Alec knew that it was right.

The runes thrummed, not unpleasantly, upon his skin, a fitting accompaniment to the mantra he repeated as they rode.

_I am a Shadowhunter. This is what we do._

They took a longer route around Alicante, not wanting to go through the thick of the city. They’d likely be recognised, and even if not, three heavily runed, heavily armed Shadowhunters would cause undue alarm.

Soon enough the city was falling behind them. Alec allowed himself one glance back; it looked almost angelic with its pale gleaming glass towers, the pearly glow of the moon and the mountains forming a crown-like backdrop to its magnificence. But he knew the truth of what went on inside its walls. That he and his siblings had to sneak away in the dead of night to attempt to save beings who were considered second-class – well, he didn’t feel as guilty as he thought he would have. There was bound to be a scene when they were discovered missing – but Izzy had penned a short note to their parents and he hoped that would be enough that they didn’t waste too many resources trying to find them.

The forest loomed up ahead, the blackness between the trees seemingly even darker than the night around them.

He knew that wherever his father looked, he wouldn’t send riders into the forest. He wouldn’t guess that they’d venture into the forest.

Still, Alec felt an unsettling mixture of relief and trepidation as they passed the first few trees.

They hadn’t been riding for more than two hours and the sky was beginning to lighten but the forests’ darkness quickly enveloped them as though it were midnight once more. Only this time, there were no stars and there was no moon. Only an unending sea of blackness before them.

While it was reassuring to know that they had succeeded in getting away from the castle, away from their home; Alec knew that it was now that the danger began.

They didn’t know much about Seelies, only that they inhabited forested areas and Shadowhunter children were taught to never venture amongst the trees.

Seelies were tricksters, not usually bloodthirsty but they were known to be cruel as a form of entertainment. And they weren’t fond of Shadowhunters, Alec reminded himself, staying alert. There had been a treaty put in place after the Mortal War, which had awarded the Seelies sanctuary in the forests of Idris. There wasn’t a written rule that Shadowhunters could not venture into their land but it was a learned behaviour. Alec had never met a Shadowhunter who had met a Seelie. They were almost a myth – magical and elusive.

It was deathly quiet around them, the sound of leaves crunching and twigs cracking beneath their horses feet the only disruptions in the otherwise unbroken silence. Alec could barely make out the thin silhouettes of the trees they passed, but didn’t dare to use his witchlight – though it was a comforting heaviness in the pocket of his cloak.

Their horses seemed to be able to follow the thin path that snaked through the forest.

Alec had known that much, having pored over maps of the areas surrounding Alicante as Jace and Isabelle had packed their weapons.

But it had been over a hundred years since Shadowhunters had had cause to venture into the forests; who knew how much had changed. Still, he hoped that if they followed the path they might eventually make it out of the forest and to a town that stood on the other side where someone may know where to find Magnus Bane. Then they’d find the cup – and Alec ignored the voice that told him it was a fools venture – and return to Alicante where it could be safely hidden from Valentine.

He was so lost in his thoughts, in his plans for their safe return that he didn’t register straight away when the horses stopped.

Jace was in the lead and Izzy between them, so Alec’s horse had stopped when the other two had.

“What – ” he began to ask, but was shushed by Jace.

Alec squinted through the darkness, trying to make out his brother and sister’s figures in front of him, to no avail.

He was just reaching into his pocket for his witchlight when a circle of flame erupted around them, making that particular intention obsolete.

To be more correct, it was actually a circle of individual flames, not the flaring wall Alec had initially perceived – due to the shock of so much light after having been accustomed to darkness for so long, no doubt.

But this thought didn’t settle him much.

He blinked several times as faint human-shaped figures came into focus behind the flames.

Seelies.

They were tall and thin, with sharp features thrown into even sharper focus due to the juxtaposition of light and dark around them. Each of them were holding a flame – not with their bare hands as it had seemed at first, but burning wooden sconces. Their expressions were cold, causing Alec to shiver despite the heat emanating from the flames.

“Who dares invade our home?”

A deep voice rumbled from one side; the tallest Faerie, with ink black hair and skin as green as the leaves overhead.

Alec opened his mouth but it was Isabelle who spoke, her voice loud and clear.

“We do not invade, my Lord. We only wish to pass through.”

His eyes narrowed as he focused on her.

“I am no Lord. We do not recognise your silly human customs and titles.”

“My apologies.” Isabelle bowed her head. “Will you grant us safe passage? We have no quarrel with your people.”

“You are Shadowhunters.” Was his derisive reply. “The quarrel is inevitable.”

“We are not your enemy.” Alec said, frowning. “We have never done anything-”

“Ha!” Another Faerie cut in. “Humans can lie.” He turned to his leader. “They are the Kings children.”

The green-skinned Fae narrowed his eyes.

“And pray tell me, what would the King’s children be doing in our Forest, heavily armed and wearing the Angels marks? You have no need of them.”

Alec swallowed. They’d agreed to keep their quest quiet, no-one could know of what they planned to do.

“We have a mission.” Jace said, sounding impatient. “It does not concern you.”

Alec sighed as the Fae turned his glare upon his brother. Jace was a natural at stirring up trouble.

“He means no disrespect.”

“Oh really? Then why not tell us what you are doing here? Forgive me if we will not relinquish the only land we have to call our own to the Shadowhunters.”

“Look, we don’t have time for this.” Jace spoke over him. “We promise not to hurt you, or disrupt -”

He was cut off by a familiar _swishing_ sound as from an imperceptible command, the Fae surrounding them unsheathed their weapons.

They were wickedly sharp silver lances, polished to perfection and gleaming in the light from the flames.

Alec’s heart clenched.

They couldn’t hope to fight off – he glanced around the circle, doing a quick headcount – twelve Fae, who were obviously trained and most likely much older and experienced than they were. And he didn’t _want_ to fight them – this mission was all about saving Downworlders, not slaughtering them.

“Please,” he said, not caring how panicked he sounded. “We don’t wish to fight you.”

“Then step down off your horse, Angel-boy, and tell us what you are doing here.” The Fae’s eyes glittered dangerously.

Alec was torn. He was just about to dismount and confide everything to the warriors and hope that perhaps they’d help them - after all, hadn't the book pointed to Seelies being the path to the cup? But they were surrounding them with weapons and hostile glares, and the other, more dominant half of him wanted to shout at Jace and Izzy to _go_ and hope they could outrun them – when there was a great flash of light that momentarily blinded him.

When his vision returned, he could see the Seelies unarmed, their weapons glowing hotly on the ground.  They were turned away from him, glaring angrily at a tall, lean figure with glowing blue energy crackling around his hands.

_Magnus._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so much fun to write! My wanderlust soul just thrives on adventure of any kind...travelling, quests...and now that they're off we get into the really exciting stuff :) lots of drama - both plot wise and relationship wise to come!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An action break in casa del Magnus :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be out yesterday but I've spent the last two days dying in bed. I'm being over dramatic of course, but I could barely do ANYTHING let alone write. But I've made up for it today and this chapter is so cute it had me grinning whilst writing it :D
> 
> Enjoy!

“My, my, my. What do we have here?”

Magnus’s eyes glittered as he took in the scene before him, resting on Alec a split-second longer than the others.

“Magnus!” Isabelle called, delight and relief evident in her voice.

His gaze returned to her, his magic still burning.

“It has been a long time since I saw the Fae and Angel’s children standing together. Though this seems a tad more… _hostile_ …than I might have hoped for.”

“We were just passing through.” Isabelle said, her head held high. “We didn’t want to start anything.”

“Of course you didn’t, dear Isabelle.” He turned to the tall dark-haired Faerie. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“You have no jurisdiction here, Bane.” He growled. “They invaded _our_ home…”

Magnus’s eyebrows rose.

“Invaded? A bit pitiful for an invasion party, don’t you think? Three children? You think the Shadowhunters were running low on warriors?”

Alec bristled. He was _not_ a child.

“They carry weapons.” The angry Faerie was saying. “Of course they’re a threat.”

“They didn’t have their weapons pointing at you.” Magnus said, drily. “Unlike some people.” He stared around their circle pointedly. “It doesn’t seem to me as though they intended to cause any trouble.”

“We can’t just let the Shadowhunters traipse in and out of our forest whenever the mood strikes them.” The Faerie said, hotly.

“No, indeed.” Magnus agreed. He looked back at them. “I would rather think though, that this particular visit is a little more than a fanciful whim?”

Alec nodded as Magnus’s eyes met his, curious and questioning.

He flicked his gaze away, pursing his lips.

“And since you didn’t want them here in the first place, I assume that you’d have no quarrel with my escorting them out of here?”

“I – well – ” The Faerie looked even angrier for a moment, then sighed. “I suppose not.”

He glared at Jace.

“Just remember that you are not welcome here.”

With another silent command the Fae disappeared, seeming to melt into the trees, taking their light with them. Alec blinked. He considered how little he actually knew about the Fae and their magic. He wouldn’t mind learning a little more – though if they were all as friendly as the ones he’d just met, he didn’t see any close relationship between their two peoples forming.

“So you know your way out of here?” Isabelle was saying, when he tuned back into the conversation.

“Of course.” Magnus smiled; the blue haze over his hands was gone now, the only magic that remained was in the form of little balls of light hanging in the air. Alec wouldn’t quickly forget the demonstration of power, though.

“I am often in the forest to do business with the Seelies.”

“Can’t they do their own magic?” Jace grumbled. He still looked put out from the Fae-leaders unfriendliness.

“They can.” Magnus answered. “But our brands of magic are rather different – we help each other out, when needed. Anyway, shall we get going?”

He began to turn, but Alec stopped him.

“You don’t need to come with us,” he said, hastily. “What I mean is,” he amended, when Izzy turned to glare at him. “We don’t expect you to help us. I don’t mean to cause offence.”

“None taken.” Magnus grinned at him, bright and brilliant. “However, it seems that you three rather attract trouble. I’d hazard a guess that you’d been in this forest for…let’s see…less than an hour before finding yourselves in a bit of a jam. I’d rather the King not have my head for sending his children off – unprotected – against the Seelies.”

“We have weapons.” Jace muttered.

“And a whole lot of good they did you.” Magnus replied, sarcastically. “Now are you coming, or do I need to pay a visit to Alicante to tell your father exactly where to find you?”

Alec’s mouth opened in surprise and he heard Izzy’s little gasp.

The corners of Magnus’s mouth twitched. “I thought as much.”

“You don’t have a horse.” Alec blurted out.

“Are you offering to share?” Magnus asked, his eyebrows arching coyly.

“Um…I…” Alec spluttered.

Magnus laughed.

“It’s okay, I don’t need one.”

He turned his back to them, moving onto the path ahead of Jace. He brought his arms up high then swished them down in a complicated set of movements, blue sparks flying from his fingertips. When he stood back, dusting his hands off, there was a shimmering blue sheet of magic in front of them. It looked rather like a door, Alec thought.

“Is that…is that a _portal_?” Izzy gasped, wonderingly.

Magnus beamed.

“Why, yes it is. I take it you have never used one before?”

She shook her head.

“Father has, once or twice, but…” She trailed off, not wanting to go into their fathers views on Downworlders. A view that unfortunately, Magnus himself was very well acquainted with. He nodded understandingly.

“Well, allow me to introduce you to the wonders of instant, inter-spacial travel.” He flourished an arm toward the portal, stepping out of the way.

She grinned, nudging her horse into a walk. She squeezed her eyes shut just before reaching the portal and…vanished from view.

“Woah.” Jace exclaimed. “I’m impressed.”

Magnus’s mouth twitched. “I’m honoured, young Herondale.”

Jace wasted no further time in urging his horse to follow Izzy, also disappearing from view.

Alec swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. His horse moved forward without a command from him, so used, it was, to following Jace’s steed. He pulled gently on the reins before he went through, turning to look at Magnus properly for the first time since he’d come to their rescue. He was just as colourful and sparkly as the first time they’d met.

 _And just as handsome_.

The thought swam into his mind, unwelcome and unbidden. He swallowed.

Magnus was looking at him questioningly, and Alec realised that he’d been staring.

“Um…I just wanted to say…thanks. I mean, thank you. Sincerely. You didn’t have to do that….over there.” He gestured lamely to where the Seelies had been stood.

“It was my pleasure, Alexander.” Magnus’s voice was soft, his gaze open. “And I must say, I’ve grown rather fond of your sister…it would have been such a shame to lose her.”

He winked and Alec’s pulse quickened, his breath catching. What was this…was it…was he _flirting_ again? But he had noticed how Magnus seemed to like Isabelle…was this normal? Was he trying to court Isabelle, and just making sure to get in her big brother’s good books?

Alec’s head hurt as these thoughts occurred to him in quick succession, possibilities flashing in and out of his mind.

He cleared his throat and nodded sharply, breaking their gaze. Without further ado he moved forward to the portal, and the forest around him disappeared.

 

.

 

The bright light of dawn hit him as soon as he walked through the portal.

Gone was the dusky, dark forest…everything here was just so _light._

Alec had to blink a couple of times before he could focus in on anything, his senses having been overwhelmed by the sudden change.

He was in what appeared to be the backyard of a small cottage. He dismounted beside Jace and Izzy, who were holding their horses’ reins and looking about their unfamiliar surroundings with interest.

There was a small barn-like structure off to one side with hay bales stacked at the entrance. The garden was abundant with lush flowers of every colour under the sun, it seemed. Though Alicante was known for its variety of flowers, Alec spotted several that he’d never seen before. There was also a large vegetable patch where what looked like a very organised crop of weeds were growing. There was a thin stone path that lead from the barn to the back door of the cottage, which was partially obscured by a large apple tree, hanging heavy with fruit. It was the stark opposite to the grand castle they’d left behind, and Alec loved it. It comforted him, in a way that the vast, echoing corridors and high stone ceilings of his home never had.

He caught a flash in the corner of his eye and turned to see Magnus stepping through the portal behind him, which fizzled out of existence with a mere snap of his fingers.

He spread his arms, walking over to them.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

“ _You_ …live _here?_ ” Jace exclaimed in disbelief.

Magnus raised his eyebrows.

“What did you expect, little Lord?”

Alec suppressed a smile as Jace’s eyes narrowed at the nickname.

“I don’t know. Just something a little more…” He waved his arms around haphazardly and Isabelle gave a strangled cough at his attempts to mimic Magnus’s extravagant gestures.

“Jace!” Alec chastised, embarrassed. Magnus had just rescued them, did Jace always have to be so blunt?

But Magnus just looked amused.

“It’s quite alright. Why don’t you come inside? Perhaps my decoration will please you more.”

He showed them into the barn first, helping them to tie up their horses and snapping his fingers so that the trough was full of cool, clear water.

They decided to also leave their weapons and packs there, eager to relieve themselves of their heavy burden. As soon as he had shrugged his bow and quiver off his back and unsheathed the short sword on his belt, Alec felt a wave of relief and exhaustion wash over him. He blinked it back, rubbing his eyes as he followed his siblings into Magnus’s home. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel awkward at the thought.

The back door led straight into the kitchen, which looked very nice, but Alec found he couldn’t focus on anything as his vision swam before his eyes. He closed them for a long moment, pressing his lips together, willing himself to remain conscious. It would not do to pass out on his host.

When he opened them, however, he saw Magnus contemplating him worriedly, the tips of his fingers pressed together.

“I think, perhaps, that a grand tour can wait until after we’ve all had a little sleep?”

“I’m okay.” Alec mumbled tiredly, trying to open his eyes wider, at the same time as Izzy and Jace replied, “Good idea!”

He was far too tired to protest any further, and Magnus assured them all that he too, could do with a nap, having been up for the better part of the night doing business with the Seelies. So Alec let him lead them to his spare rooms; “I only have two, I’m afraid.” He apologised, but Jace waved him off, pulling a lethargic Alec into one of them, leaving Izzy to take the other.

“Thank you.” Alec turned to Magnus, before Jace closed the door on him. The last thing he saw was Magnus’s curiously shaped green-gold eyes smiling back at him before he collapsed onto the bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke, blearily blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he did so to find Jace snoring peacefully beside him, fully clothed, his hands curled around a small sheathed dagger. Alec shook his head. He carefully eased the fingers gripping the leather holster, sliding the dagger out of Jace’s grip and placed it on the nightstand beside him. Jace was a good fighter he knew, but he was also impulsive and acted on instinct. He didn’t want any unfortunate ‘incidents’ to occur if either Izzy or Magnus decided to come and wake him.

He climbed out of the bed, stretching his rested muscles, glancing for the first time at the room around him. Jace had managed to close the curtains, he saw, before he’d fallen asleep, and the room was bathed in a dusky light from the few sunbeams that had penetrated the gaps.

He moved across the room to open the curtains a little and peer outside. Their room looked out onto a side of the house, one that revealed an expanse of fields and meadows around it. In the distance he could see the forest, and shivered as he remembered his first experience with the Fae who lived there. He supposed that Magnus mustn’t have a lot of visitors, for most people knew to stay away from forests. He wondered if that was why he’d chosen to live so close, or if it was merely a convenience. The sun was high in the sky, suggesting it was somewhere about midday. He never had gotten used to sleeping for very long, but he expected that Jace and Izzy might very well need a few more hours.

He let the edge of the curtain drop, not wanting to wake Jace before he was ready. He crossed the room, smiling a little to himself as he noted the bright colours; a canary yellow for the walls, a thick rug of greens, blues and gold and furniture that looked more expensive than most things they had in the castle.

He quickly sought out his pack – they had left them in the barn outside, but he supposed that Magnus must have brought them up – and changed his shirt for a fresh one. He combed his fingers through his hair a few times and slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind him. His stomach was growling and his throat was dry. He had a small pouch of gold in his pocket, perhaps enough worth seeing if Magnus had any food he might be willing to trade.

He looked both ways down the hall outside his rooms, trying to remember the way to the kitchen. The cottage seemed to be bigger than its outside appearance suggested. There were certainly more doors leading out of the hallway than the three bedrooms Magnus had. Alec wondered what they were.

He chose to go left, since the other way was a dead end, a set of elaborate double doors Alec faintly remembered Magnus referring to as his bedroom. He turned and ventured off, surprised to find that he appreciated the unfamiliar surroundings. He’d never travelled in his life; well, not really. The only places he’d ever been to were to visit various members of the elite, whose homes were not vastly different from his own. But Magnus’s home couldn’t have been a further cry to what he was used to. He took his time, appreciating the little touches here and there, the artwork on the walls, the windows set every couple of paces complete with cushioned window-seats, should one wish to relax and take in the view. He marvelled at how much light and warmth seemed to fill the space. He was used to cold dark corridors lit with the occasional flaming wall sconce. It was not an environment that encouraged loitering, but he felt like he could quite happily pass an entire morning simply in Magnus’s homey hallway.

He rounded the corner and found the staircase, so unlike the sweeping stone monstrosities you’d find in the castle. This one was made of polished wood, like so much of the furniture in this house. It wound in on itself, spiralling down to the ground floor.

The space here was astounding. It was open plan, except for the kitchen, which he could see a sliver of behind a heavy oak door. The floor was mostly paved slabs of stone, cut unevenly, but Alec thought that just added to the charm. There were a collection of mismatched, colourful sofas and armchairs clustered around a large fireplace and a massive overflowing bookshelf lined the entirety of one wall. Plants were everywhere, from bright colourful daisies to roses, cacti and what looked like an assortment of various herbs growing on one windowsill. Their combined fragrances mixed together, making the cottage smell like spring.

Alec’s stomach rumbled again, interrupting his exploration of Magnus’s house. He turned toward the kitchen hastily, his mind on food and nothing else.

He pushed the door open, striding inside, only to freeze in surprise.

Magnus.

He was sitting at the large oak table nursing what looked like a steaming cup of tea – and Alec’s insides twisted as the smell of it curled toward him – and wearing nothing more than a pair of silken pyjama pants and a matching robe that was left open, exposing the entirety of his golden chest.

Alec remained frozen for a long moment, unable to tear his eyes away from the flawlessly smooth caramel skin that stretched over hard lines of muscle. A small part of his brain wondered how Magnus managed to stay in such good shape, what kind of training he did, but the larger part seemed to have been rendered speechless.

“Good afternoon.”

His voice startled him out of his reverie: he blinked twice and forced his gaze onto Magnus’s face, upon which was an amused expression and a twinkling in his eyes.

Alec forced himself not to flush; but he was suddenly feeling too hot and couldn’t tell whether or not he’d succeeded.

“Um.” He mentally kicked himself into gear. “Is it? Afternoon, I mean? Already?”

“Only just.” Magnus replied, gesturing to the spare chairs around the table. Alec chose one far enough away from Magnus and facing the wall so he couldn’t see his bare chest as well as he had when he’d walked in.

“I’m sorry for sleeping so long. I guess I was just really tired.” He sat perched on the edge of his chair, feeling nervous for some reason.

“Not at all!” Magnus waved him off. “I expected you to sleep for longer.”

“I don’t really sleep that much.” He confessed.

“Neither do I.”

Their eyes met, a shared smile. Alec noticed that Magnus’s face was considerably less done up than he’d come to expect. He was wearing make-up – at least, Alec thought so, as his cheeks shimmered when the sun hit them and there was a thin line of black outlining his eyes. But apart from that, his face was bare. He looked younger, more innocent.

“What would you like?”

“What?” Alec was startled again.

“To eat? Or drink?”

“Oh. Right.” He chastised himself internally. He had to stop getting lost in his thoughts – Magnus must think he was insane.

“Um, a little of whatever you have would be great.” He reached into his pocket, drawing out the pouch. “I have some gold in return.”

Magnus stared at the pouch as though it had done him a personal offence.

“I don’t need your money.” If he sounded stunned, it was the first time. He was always in control of the situation.

“Um, no…I’m sure you don’t, but…we can’t just take things from you…you’ve done so much already, let us stay here, and I - ”

Alec was rambling, but he felt awful. He hadn’t meant to offend Magnus. Thankfully, his apologies seemed to have softened Magnus’s expression.

“Alexander.” He interrupted, softly. “You are my guests. I invited you here. That comes with a guarantee of nourishment, as well as shelter. It’s my policy.” He added, as Alec opened his mouth to protest again.

He nodded slowly, slipping the pouch back into his pocket and giving Magnus a small smile.

“Now, back to my earlier question.” Magnus clapped his hands together, rising from his chair and twirling around. “What would you like?”

“Um, that tea you’re drinking smells pretty good.” Alec confessed, leaning forward and rubbing the back of his neck.

Magnus looked delighted.

“Really? I’m so glad! I make it myself.”

“You do?” Alec was surprised again; he was starting to detect a pattern of this around Magnus.

“Oh yes. You may have noticed my penchant for gardening.” He gestured around the room, where Alec noticed more pots were standing on every available surface, and out the window toward the flourishing garden.

“I did, but…if you don’t mind my asking…how do you find the time? With your…Warlock work?”

“Well…magic comes in handy in more areas of my life than just my work.” Magnus winked at him and Alec flushed. He cursed his pale skin.

“Right.” He mumbled, looking down at his hands. He heard Magnus turn away and busy himself at the stove, and soon enough a wonderful aroma had permeated the air.

He looked round, surprised again, just in time to see Magnus flipping a pancake onto an already sizeable stack and twirling gracefully around to place the plate in front of Alec, alongside a bowl of fresh fruit and a large jug of maple syrup.

“Wow.” Alec blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “These look – Magnus, I – thank you.” His stomach growled again, louder than before, and Magnus laughed.

“I thought you might want something a little more substantial than just tea. Though there’s plenty of that as well.”

He moved back to the counter and brought a bright green teapot to the table, reaching up to a cabinet on the wall to retrieve a mug and a pot of sugar.

He stepped back, brow furrowed, contemplating the feast he’d laid out.

“What am I forgetting…” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Oh, right!”

He snapped his fingers and a jug of fresh milk appeared beside the teapot.

Magnus went to sit back down, topping up his own mug of tea and adding copious amounts of sugar.

“Please, dig in.” He motioned the plate in front of Alec, still untouched as he’d watched Magnus set out the table for him.

Now he wasted no time in cutting into the soft, fluffy pancakes, still hot from the pan and taking a huge bite.

He couldn’t help the moan of appreciation that escaped from his lips, couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed as Magnus chuckled to his side. He reached for the fruit and syrup, loading both atop his pancakes and dove right back in.

They fell into an easy conversation, despite Alec’s earlier awkwardness and the fact that Magnus still hadn’t fastened his gown. However, Alec found that if he concentrated on his food, then when it was all gone, his tea, he was more than capable of holding a decent conversation with Magnus. He was rather pleased by that fact, and found that he liked conversing with Magnus. The Warlock was clearly very smart, kind – as evidenced by his saving them in the forest and offering them food and shelter – and funny too.

Alec was just laughing at a story he was telling about the time he and Ragnor Fell had gone sailing together - apparently one mishap had led to another and they’d ended up sinking the ship and the entirety of their cargo, losing not only the money they’d have gotten for the delivery but also what they’d had to reimburse the captain in expenses. Ragnor hadn’t spoken to him for a decade, Magnus said – when Izzy and Jace walked in, yawning. Alec hadn’t even heard them coming down the stairs, he’d been that absorbed.

“Good afternoon, sleepy heads.” Magnus greeted them.

Izzy bounded over to hug Magnus and kiss Alec on the cheek, who was astounded by her familiarity with the Warlock. Jace just stood there open mouthed, staring at Magnus’s attire, not unlike Alec had done – though Alec doubted it was for the same reasons.

“I didn’t realise it was casual Friday.” He said, when he’d closed his mouth. “Ow!”

Izzy had punched him on the arm. “Don’t be so rude.” She chastised.

Magnus just laughed. “It’s quite alright. Every day is casual Friday in my house, Jonathon. If you’d feel more comfortable, please.” He gestured at Jace’s loose cotton blouse, crumpled from where he’d slept on it.

Alec flushed. He would really rather Jace not follow Magnus’s example. He was sure there’d be no chance of him forming a single intelligible thought in his mind if Jace was shirtless.

He was staring intently down at his tea, relief flooding through him when he heard Jace’s curt “No thank you.”, and let out a breath. What a close call.

Magnus busied himself with fetching breakfast for his other two guests and Izzy engaged Alec in a spirited conversation about the Seelies they’d met yesterday. He listened distractedly, watching Magnus out of the corner of his eye as he poured pancake batter into a pan and hummed tunelessly.

“I thought the one next to that leader dude was kind of hot.” She was saying.

“What, you mean the one who ratted us out as being ‘The King’s children’?” Jace grimaced. “They’re all a bit stuck up if you ask me.”

“Oh, they’re not always so bad.” Magnus called over. “Or maybe I should say, they’re not all bad. You just happened to run into a rather overzealous section of the guard. They’re always lobbying to be first in the Queen’s favour.”

Jace narrowed his eyes. “I thought they said they don’t follow our silly human customs?”

Magnus grinned ruefully. “I think you’ll find that the Seelies originated the concept of Monarchy. They have always had a Queen – or King – they just don’t follow through with Lords, Ladies, Barons or Baronesses. They have those in the Queen’s court, those in the Queen’s favour, and everybody else.”

“Oh.”

They looked at each other, wondering again how much else they didn’t know about the Seelies. Or indeed, Vampires, Werewolves, Warlocks…all Downworlders, really. Their education had certainly been lacking in a particular area.

Magnus finished cooking and plated up pancakes for Jace and Izzy, sitting back down as they dug in ravenously.

“So.” He leaned forward, pressing the tips of his long, thin fingers together. “Why don’t you tell me about this ‘mission’ of yours, and why you had to run away from home to accomplish it?”

Alec gulped a large mouthful of tea, looking to his siblings for support. They both, however, had large mouthfuls of pancake and didn’t seem likely to stop eating any time soon. Izzy smiled at him best she could, around her pancake, and Jace gave him a quick nod.

Alec sighed and turned to Magnus, explaining in as short terms as he could what Dot had told them and what they’d found in the library afterwards. When he was finished, Magnus had a strange expression on his face. It looked like a mix of contemplation, confusion and pride.

“So,” he said again, slowly. “This book told you that I hid the Mortal Cup, along with Ragnor and Catarina?”

Alec nodded.

“Can I see it?”

Alec pushed his chair back but Isabelle was faster, jumping up. She returned in under a minute, carrying the large, leather-bound tome under her arm. She brought it to Magnus and showed him the page they’d bookmarked.

His expression darkened as he read it.

“So can you tell us where it is?” She asked, excitedly?

Magnus lifted his head to look at her.

“I didn’t hide it.” He said, no lie in his tone.

Alec’s face fell.

“I didn’t want anything to do with it after the war.” He continued, looking back at the page. “None of us did.”

He was silent for a moment, tracing his fingers over the ink, turning the book over to examine it.

“This was in your library?” He asked.

Izzy nodded.

He stood abruptly.

“Excuse me.” He disappeared out of the kitchen in a whirl of colourful silk.

They were silent while he was gone and Izzy sat back down. Alec could tell that the others were wondering what he was wondering: how were they ever going to find the cup if Magnus couldn’t help them?

The silence was broken when something dropped down from the top of the cabinet on the wall over the table, landing with a loud thud, rattling their plates and mugs. Alec yelped, unable to contain his sudden shock.

Magnus came rushing back in at the noise, stopping to grin at the scene before him.

“Ah.” He said, walking over to Alec and leaning over him to pick up their intruder. “I see you’ve met Chairman Meow.”

“Chairman Meow?” Alec repeated, eyeing the tiny grey tabby cat with apprehension as it curled up into Magnus’s arms.

“I like to be creative with my pets’ names.” Magnus offered, as an explanation. “I apologise for that, I didn’t realise he was in here. I just went to send fire messages to Ragnor and Catarina; I’m pretty sure this book is an only edition, but just in case that particular rumour spread, Valentine might come after them and they need to be aware of that fact.”

Alec’s blood ran cold.

“But…he might come after you then?” His heart rate sped up. “You should go somewhere. Hideout.”

Magnus regarded him with another strange expression, this one uninterpretable.

“I’ll be okay.” He said, eventually. “I can handle Valentine, should he come calling.”

Alec opened his mouth to protest further, but was beaten to it by Jace.

“So you didn’t hide it, but do you have any idea where we might find the cup? If Valentine gets to it before we do – well, its bad news for all of us.”

Magnus’s expression turned thoughtful.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it. I trusted the Shadowhunters to keep him behind bars – many Downworlders opposed this sentence, but I’ve never been one for killing if it can be avoided. Now, however…I fear that may be the only solution.”

“Are you saying we should forget about the cup and try and kill Valentine instead?” Isabelle’s voice shook.

“No! Of course not.” Magnus looked horrified. “I would never ask you to do that. It’s far too dangerous.”

“We can handle it.” Jace affirmed, boldly. “We’re not scared.”

Alec rolled his eyes. He didn’t doubt that Jace wasn’t scared, not right now. He’d always had courage in excess. And he was the most talented fighter of his age, save for maybe Alec, on some days. But there was a big difference between the training ring and actual combat – actual combat against an evil megalomaniac who’d managed to escape the most impenetrable fortress in the world and kill some of the most powerful Shadowhunters while he was at it. Not to mention somehow orchestrate the theft of the Mortal Sword, their most well-protected relic. Jace might very well not be scared, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be, when he was looking death right in the face.

He was relieved to see Magnus shaking his head.

“No. Absolutely not. We have no idea who Valentine is working with, but we can be sure that they are powerful, and have magic on their side.”

“You have -”

“I will not go against Angel knows how many Warlocks and or Seelies on the off-chance that I might be more powerful than them. You don’t get to live as long as I have by being reckless, Jonathon.” He sat back, a warmth in his eyes that belied their conversation. “Though I do remember having a very similar conversation with your dear ancestor. Perhaps it’s in your blood.”

“Heroism?” Jace perked up.

“Recklessness.” Magnus replied, bluntly. “And if he hadn’t had a gaggle of Warlocks running after him, cleaning up his every mess and dragging him out of every potentially fatal situation he’d gotten himself into, he would never have lived to become a hero.”

Jace sighed restlessly, but backed down.

“There may be another way.” Magnus continued.

Alec perked up.

“There may be someone who knows what happened to the cup. But,” he raised a hand as grins split across their faces. “I cannot guarantee that she will be willing to divulge such information, if she has it, or even, actually, if we will be able to find her.”

“What do you mean?” Izzy frowned.

“I mean that she works at the Spiral Labyrinth. And nobody who is not employed there knows of its location.”

Their faces fell.

“Then how do we find out how to get there?”

Magnus paused, thinking.

“I know the general area it is in. I have two friends who work there, actually. I have never tried to find it, because I had no need. And its location must be kept a secret. The work they do there is too fragile for general knowledge. Once we are in the area I should be able to track my friends magic; their traces will be familiar to me. But once we have been there, I will have to wipe your memories of its location.”

“Is the knowledge really that dangerous?” Jace asked, sceptically.

“Yes.” Magnus turned his solemn gaze on him. “If it were known that you knew of its location, anybody could torture the information out of you. It is for your own safety that you do not know.”

“What about your safety?” Alec asked.

Magnus looked at him with the same indecipherable gaze, blinking, as if he were seeing him for the first time.

“I will have one of my friends wipe my memory for me.” He said, after a long pause.

They nodded their acquiescence.

“Who is your friend?” Izzy asked, out of curiosity. “Are we allowed to know that?”

Magnus smiled. “Of course. Her name is Tessa. Tessa Gray.”

Jace’s eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under his hair.

“She’s my…”

“Your ancestor. Yes.”

Jace sat back, having for the first time, been stunned into silence.

Alec watched him fondly. He could only guess what this must mean to Jace; the possibility of meeting a relative when all he’d known were gone.

He jumped again when he felt something soft against his leg and looked down to see Chairman Meow rubbing against him. He’d never had a pet of his own before, but he’d enjoyed petting the various animals who lived in and around the castle. He reached down instinctively and picked the little cat up with one hand, bringing him to his chest, as Magnus had done earlier. He purred happily, making Alec grin, despite the gravity of the mission that lay ahead of them.

He looked up to see Magnus’s eyes on him.

“I think Chairman Meow likes you.” He observed, smiling softly.

Alec returned the smile.

At that moment, everything felt alright. He was happy. He was doing something good. He was among friends.

He could almost pretend that everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was supposed to be a lot more action in this chapter, but I may have gotten a little too into the cuteness between Magnus and Alec :') but then again, the point of this fic is Malec...so I don't feel bad at all for choosing them over the progression of the actual story :') the next chap, however, shall be action and drama and adventure...and more drama :)
> 
> Also, I’m going to push updates back to once a week, on Fridays – my life is getting busier and I don’t want to rush the writing of this. It may go back to twice if I get the chance to write ahead or find more free time…but we’ll see!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introspection, more Malec cuteness and a little bit of ACTION. Warning - cliffhanger ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to stop writing these chapters the night I'm supposed to post them. If there are any mistakes in this I apologise, I literally had time to write it and proof-read it once only. I really want to stick to this schedule, or I'll fall behind! I hope this is okay, but it was a little rushed. I promise I'll spend more time on the chapters to come.

The sun was already beginning to sink in the sky by the time they set out, but they hadn’t wanted to wait another night.

It had taken a good few hours to map out their journey, and to pack enough food for a few days travel. It would take a day or two, Magnus said, to get to the general location, then assuming that he was able to find the Labyrinth and that Tessa was willing to speak with them, they aimed to be back at Magnus’s cottage – which Alec had begun to think of as ‘base’; though they had spent not even a day there, Magnus had been so helpful and seemed to have integrated himself into the very core of their mission (not that Alec minded) – within four days’ time.

It was a good plan.

But Magnus’s insides twisted painfully as they mounted their horses and set off into the darkening twilight.

It seemed to him, that during his very long life, his time could be parted into two; periods of light, and periods of darkness. The periods of light were sometimes characterised by a relationship – love making his days fly by in a shower of glimmering sunbeams and smiles. The dark periods, conversely, were the times during which he had little or no companionship at all, during which he felt his soul weighing heavier and heavier within him, dragging out the days and blurring them together. During the light periods, everything was crystal clear. Sharp. Memorable.

But they weren’t always good.

His relationship with Camille, for instance. It had been a light period that spanned decades, but he regretted every moment of it. Though he despised the dark times more than words could say, he wished every day that he had never met her, that she had never brought her light into his life. Because while he had been in love, he had also been in pain – more pain than he’d ever experienced before, and that was saying something. And because everything was so sharp, illuminated, bright…he couldn’t forget. Not even for a second.

He’d wondered, many a time, what was his life worth living, if his light periods were just as bad – or even worse – than the dark?

But then another one would come along, and it would shake that train of thought for a while.

However, his light periods weren’t always relationships. Sometimes they were periods of unrest in his world – the Mortal War, for example, which, though it had been over a hundred years ago, he remembered as though it had been yesterday. And Valentine, sixteen years ago.

It may be strange for some people to understand why they were classified as ‘light’ periods in Magnus’s life. They weren’t particularly enjoyable, but then again, they were…he had a purpose, a meaning. He had friends, ones he saw quite often, since they were fighting together. He was busy, and didn’t have any time to muse morbidly upon his life or what was awaiting him upon his death.

He had been wallowing in a dark period when he’d stumbled across the enigma that was Alexander Lightwood.

Like a ray of sunshine, he’d pierced through the darkness.

But then Magnus had learnt of his royalty, and the tiny blossom of hope had died, before it had even had a chance to live.

And now he was here again, riding by his side, sleeping under his roof, blushing and stumbling over his words like an innocent, sheltered, seventeen-year old virgin.

Which, Magnus reminded himself ashamedly, he probably was.

Alec had been so kind to him – shown him an effortless kindness and sympathy he hadn’t even thought about, it had come naturally. He hadn’t treated him any differently as most Shadowhunters did, even, deferred to him as his higher.

He’d tried to _pay for breakfast._

Magnus shook his head bemusedly as he gazed at the dark head bobbing up and down in front of him as their horses ambled along the road.

The seed had begun to take root again, he could feel it.

He shouldn’t fall for Alexander Lightwood. He _couldn’t_ …but he feared he had no choice in the matter.

But he couldn’t help but feel as though this time was different. A relationship and time of unrest had never coincided before…he had had nothing, nothing to live for, nothing to look forward to, nothing to help out with…then Alec had come along at the same time that Valentine had escaped? And he, Magnus, had allowed himself to become swept up in it, without even a second thought.

It was for his country, he told himself.

To rid his fellow citizens of the evil that was Valentine once and for all.

But he knew that wasn’t really the case.

He hated Shadowhunters, despised them.

Since Will and Cecily and their children, there hadn’t been a single Shadowhunter he’d found that he liked. But now he had three, and they’d burst into his life so suddenly.

Well, maybe two and a half, he amended, glancing at Jace’s golden head. Perhaps the boy would grow on him, like Will had, but right now…

A tiny jolt of jealousy shot through him as Alec threw his head back and laughed at something Jace had said.

Yes, right now, despite their parents, he liked Alec and Isabelle much better than this new Herondale.

They continued on into the darkening night, exchanging little conversation, the buzz of a new adventure fizzing between them. Excitement and trepidation.

The moon was high in the sky when Magnus called them to a halt; Jace protested, but Magnus was adamant. They’d soon be travelling into Downworlder territory, he knew. The only place in Idris Shadowhunters had not settled, and a fitting barrier for the Spiral Labyrinth. He’d been there many a time, of course, and the accords meant that Shadowhunters were not barred from the land – Vampires and Werewolves were not usually as hostile as the Seelies – but with recent developments, Magnus feared that his three companions would not be so welcome here now.

Alec and Isabelle agreed with him, leaving Jace to grumble as they dismounted and led their horses to a nearby copse of trees that stood at the base of a hill and dark entrance to a cave.

They stood back as Magnus conjured up floating balls of light and ducked into the cave.

Jace glanced at his siblings in trepidation, but Alec’s face was full of wonder and Izzy just looked excited as she plunged into the opening after Magnus.

“Wow.”

Alec couldn’t help the exclamation that slipped out of his mouth.

The inside of the cave was small but well protected, it seemed, from the outside weather. Magnus had conjured a fire in the centre and four camp beds around it. Alec recognised the colourful print of the sheets from his home.

Though they had all slept past midday, their lack of sleep was still catching up with them and Alec saw his yawn mirrored by Isabelle as they dropped their packs and chose beds.

He ended up directly opposite Magnus, in between Izzy and Jace. He blinked through his tiredness, trying to ignore how handsome Magnus’s face looked through in the glow of the flames. He hadn’t put any more make-up on, but the light caught on the golden shimmer on his cheeks, making him glow even more than usual.

“So, is it really dangerous for us or are you just being overprotective of the King’s children?” Izzy was asking Magnus, on his unwillingness to travel through Downworlder land at night.

He grinned ruefully.

“That may have been part of my concern.” He acquiesced. “But more importantly, the news of Valentines escape has just spread. Downworlders know that he’ll come after them – us – first, and they do not expect much help or protection from the Shadowhunters.”

“Of course we’ll do we can to – ”

Jace began, but Magnus interrupted him.

“ _I_ know that you’ll expend all forces to capture him again, but forgive them for not having the same confidence. After all, he only slaughtered Shadowhunters after they disagreed with him and tried stop him. He hated Downworlders from the start.”

“But _why_?” Izzy looked troubled. “I know his parents were killed, but that doesn’t mean that all werewolves, or all Downworlders are bad.”

Magnus was silent for a moment, regarding them through narrowed eyes.

Eventually he sighed, shifting to sit up straighter.

“There is more to the story than was publicly told.”

He began, sparking their interest.

“Valentine didn’t just hate Downworlders. He was jealous of us.” He paused for a moment, but none of them interrupted. “He was jealous of the powers we possessed without having to mark our skin – and even runes couldn’t give Shadowhunters the speed of a Vampire, the strength of a Werewolf, the powers of a Warlock. He was bitter. Dot told you how Jocelyn found him experimenting with Downworlder children in their basement?”

They nodded wordlessly.

“He was experimenting with their blood. On himself.”

Izzy gasped, and even Jace’s face was white with horror.

Alec found his voice.

“Did…did that work? Did he gain their powers?”

Magnus turned to look at him, his usually bright eyes dim and impassive.

“In a way. He gained powers no Shadowhunter ever has – or hopefully ever will – have. But they came at a price; Downworlder blood is to an extent demonic. Mixing that with his angel blood…well, it drove him mad. I saw him,”

He continued, a faraway look in his eye.

“Fighting Jocelyn, before she ran, before he was taken down. She screamed at him that he was mad, that he had ruined both their lives with his madness. He just laughed. He told her that insanity was a small price to pay for glory. She was stunned by that.”

His voice was soft.

“She might have died, if it weren’t for Dot, who should have run, but came to Jocelyn’s rescue instead.”

He smiled, and shook his head.

“Valentine tried to separate us, but I’ll never forget what he actually did. In the end, it was Shadowhunters and Downworlders united, fighting their common enemy. Him. It didn’t last though.”

“Why not” Alec asked, softly.

“I don’t know.” Their gazes locked again. “Pride? Fear? Perhaps they had something to do with it. But really I think it was Shadowhunters wanting to forget. Wanting to believe that one of their own hadn’t gone rogue. Unity with the Downworlders would have reminded them of him. Also, perhaps they didn’t want others thinking that they could do the same. Your father is smart, you know. I may not see eye to with him,” Magnus smirked. “But he is smart. I’m not saying that this is ideal, but spreading fear of Downworlders would have prevented Shadowhunters from proximity to them, proximity to commit the same atrocities as Valentine.”

They were silent as he finished speaking, and Alec wondered if Izzy and Jace were thinking the same as he. How they could have grown up not knowing this, not knowing the specifics of their own history.

Alec’s mind drifted once more to Valentine, and the task they hoped to complete. Was that why Magnus had insisted upon joining them? To protect them? But Magnus was in the most danger here, if they actually ran into Valentine. He shivered as his brain rejected that possibility.

“It’s late.” Magnus spoke quietly. “Why don’t we all get some sleep, and we can get going early tomorrow.”

They all agreed, and after a snack of some bread, fruit and cheese, settled down into their beds.

Alec wondered if conjuring up their – ridiculously comfortable for camping – beds had cost Magnus much energy. His companions all fell asleep before him and he let their gentle breathing lull him into a gentle slumber, feeling calm and peaceful again, despite the danger that lay ahead.

 

.

 

The next morning Alec woke to find Jace and Izzy still fast asleep, but Magnus’s bed empty and the fire burned out. Instead, the cave was lit with the gentle glow of dawn. He hastily threw his covers back and slipped outside.

Magnus was standing with his back to him, gazing across the vast expanse of open field before them, onto the grey, jagged mountain range in the distance that was their goal.

“Good morning.”

He didn’t turn but must have heard Alec’s footsteps behind him.

“Good morning.” Alec replied, taking a deep breath of the cool, crisp air.

Magnus turned to smile at him.

“Different to city air, isn’t it?”

Alec returned the smile, a little ruefully.

“Just a little.” He joked, then turned sombre. “I know it’s only been a day, but…I can’t imagine going back.” He confessed.

Magnus turned to him. “What about your family?” He asked.

“I have my family here with me.” Alec motioned toward the cave. I never saw my parents enough for them to qualify. I’m sorry,” he added, quickly. “That must seem harsh. They’re not bad parents.”

Magnus reached out to touch his arm lightly. Alec pretended as though he didn’t feel it burning through the thin material of his shirt sleeve.

“Just because they’re not bad parents…that doesn’t necessarily make them good parents. I’ve always believed that we choose our own family.”

Alec met his gaze, seeing understanding there.

“Who are yours?” He asked, curious.

Magnus expression darkened, and he moved his hand off Alec’s arm. Alec felt its absence immediately.

“I’m sorry.” He said, again. “That was forward of me.”

Magnus’s grin returned.

“Oh I have absolutely no problem whatsoever with you being _forward_ , Alexander, please, feel free.” He dropped a wink that made Alec flush – and for once, he didn’t try to hide it. He wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt bolder. Perhaps it was that he was getting to know Magnus better. Perhaps it was that there was nobody else around.

“It’s just, some of the people I regarded as family no longer live. Some do, of course…such is the nature of life.” Magnus’s gaze returned to the mountains in the distance. From this far, they seemed almost unreal…ethereal, unattainable. But they were solid, unmoving, tangible. Like much of life; a juxtaposition.

Alec nodded, his eyes downcast. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose either Izzy or Jace. He felt a wave of sympathy for Magnus, stronger than he’d ever felt before.

“As my current little family stands, that would be myself, Catarina and Ragnor…as unwilling as he is to be a part of something. He had no choice.” He chuckled. “I would also include dear Tessa in that equation, though I see her much less than the other two. She prefers to keep to herself, since…”

He didn’t have to finish.

Alec wondered what a cruel fate it would be to for an immortal to fall in love with a mortal. He couldn’t imagine that any gods or angels would impose such an inevitable torture upon anyone…but it had happened, and he could only imagine what Tessa had lived through.

They fell silent for a moment, each simply enjoying the comfort of the other in the cool morning breeze.

Alec felt strange…dissociated from who he had been so recently. It had felt like a cord snapping, the act of leaving home. For once in his life he’d broken the rules…completely and irreversibly. He didn’t doubt that their disappearance had been noted by now, they’d been gone over a day. He wondered whether his father would have sent people searching for them, for whether Izzy’s note had been sufficient. Either way, there would be hell to pay when they returned – Mortal Cup or not.

But he wasn’t afraid. Before, the thought of incurring his parents wrath would have sent him into a panicked frenzy, but now, he found that he couldn’t care that much.

He wasn’t sure whether it was the act of disobedience, the moral justification of doing the right thing, the clean air and space around him, or even Magnus’s presence perhaps – the first person he’d ever really begun to get to know outside his small circle of family and court advisors. But it had evoked a change in him that he found he rather liked. He felt himself freeing up, becoming less tense and smiling more. It was funny, he thought. A mission so dangerous should make him _more_ tense, and smile less…perhaps it had just been the freedom he’d needed, the distance. His mind felt clearer than it had in years.

He breathed in deeply again, enjoying the sensation of the cool air filling his lungs so deeply, promising adventure and excitement.

They stood there for a long while, simply content to be, until they were once again interrupted by Alec’s siblings. They weren’t unwelcome, though.

He turned to smile at them, seeing the thrill of adventure reflected back at him in both of their eyes.

“Tea?” Magnus asked.

When they nodded he snapped his fingers and each of them instantly found that they were holding a brightly coloured mug from his kitchen.

Izzy laughed, Alec smiled and Jace swore, almost dropping his.

Magnus laughed at his response.

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing in them. Yet. We’ll have to brew the tea on the fire. Who’s hungry?”

They filed back into the cave, where Magnus snapped his fingers again and the beds disappeared to be replaced with camp chairs around the replenished, roaring fire.

They brewed tea, toasted bread and joked around the fire, and Alec sat quietly, sipping the fragrant tea and eating his toast, finding his gaze drawn to Magnus’s expressive features more often than not.

All too soon Magnus was snapping away any evidence of their night, and they were collecting their horses from the nearby copse and setting off again.

Alec had his bow and quiver strapped to his back and Jace and Izzy were armed as well…they weren’t taking any chances.

Still, it was quiet and they passed through the foothills of Northern Idris without seeing another soul.

Perhaps it was this, along with the calmness the morning had instilled into him, that lulled Alec into a false sense of security.

Soon enough they were beginning on a rocky path that led up the mountains, feeling slightly sore from the hours they’d spent on horseback, but eager as Magnus called back to tell them they were almost there.

Dusk was falling again and Alec was feeling sleepy, soothed by the gentle motion of his steed finding its way up the mountain. He was taking up the rear and Magnus led – since he was the one who knew where he was going – with Izzy and Jace between them.

The only sounds were the scuffles and clops of their horses’ hooves upon the rough terrain, but still Alec didn’t hear the soft footfalls behind them. It wasn’t until they’d reached a sharp corner – around which was a steep clamber up over a ridge – that he was aware of anything.

Magnus had gone first, excited as he’d said they were very close. It was one horse at a time, so they’d been waiting for his call before following.

A soft snarl reverberated through the silence, alerting Alec’s horse. He froze, ears flicking back and forth.

The second time, Alec heard it, having been looking around to search out the source of his horse’s discomfort.

His eyes widened as he saw a huge yellow pair glaring back at him through the brush.

“Jace.” He said softly but urgently, not taking his eyes away from the wolf crouching not ten feet away from them.

“Hmm?” Came Jace’s reply.

“Draw your sword.”

Jace became alert in an instant, swivelling his body to search out the dark spot Alec’s gaze was trained on.

He motioned to Alec and in three seconds they had both dismounted, swiftly and silently. Jace’s sword was out and Alec was grasping his bow and quiver. Both had dropped into protective stances, without taking their eyes off the wolf stalking them.

“What do you think it wants?” Jace murmured.

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.” Alec replied, just as quietly. “We’re in their territory. Maybe they’re just as friendly as the Seelies.”

They stared the wolf down for another long moment before it bared its teeth at them and back away. Clearly it hadn’t fancied its chances against their weapons. Alec sighed, reattaching his bow to the strap across his back. He _really_ didn’t want to have to use it. Practice was fine, but he’d never actually shot a living being.

He moved back toward his horse when he noticed three things in quick succession; one was Isabelle, standing away from her horse, staring wide-eyed behind him. The second was a collective low growling sound that told him more that he’d find more than one wolf baring its fangs at him if he turned around. But the third stopped him from doing so. It was the presence of another wolf, one that Izzy hadn’t seen yet, crouching to her left, teeth bared, ready to spring.

There was no time to draw his bow.

“Alec, move!” She screamed, still focused on the wolves behind him. Her hand twitched over her hidden knife holsters, he could only guess how close they were if she was afraid to throw them in his direction.

But he was focused only on her.

“Izzy, get out of the way!” He yelled, as the wolf sprung.

He was moving before he’d thought about it, his body launching itself across the path toward her. Their bodies collided, hitting the ground hard. He was relieved for a split second before a white hot pain erupted in his back and he was yanked backward.

There was a seemingly distant _thud_ and a white hot pain blossomed around his head, before it fizzled out into darkness.

When he came to, the wolves were gone. Izzy’s face was hovering over his, far too close, her dark eyes wide with worry.

“Izzy.” He croaked. Her face swam, and he blinked, ignoring the dull ache in his head. “I’m sorry about Lydia. I won’t marry her.”

Fear turned to amusement and she pursed her lips against a smile.

“Alec, we don’t need to talk about that right now.”

He shifted, struggling to push himself up.

“We do.” He insisted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

She did smile this time, shaking her head.

“I know you didn’t. It’s fine, really. We weren’t serious. It was never going to work out.” She gave a small laugh sobering up as she looked back to Alec. “Oh Alec, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean because…look, don’t not marry her for me, don’t marry her for _you_ , okay?”

He gazed at her sincere expression for another moment, before Jace’s voice interrupted them.

“Alec?!” He sounded panicked. He dropped down beside them – Alec was still lying on the ground, he realised, but there seemed to be some sort of soft material underneath him.

“I’m okay.” He said automatically, wincing as he turned to look at Jace. “What happened?”

Jace as regarding him distrustfully, scanning over his face as though some fatal injury would reveal itself.

“You tried to tackle a wolf, Alec.” It sounded as though he was trying to chastise him, but he couldn’t help the note of pride his tone belied. Alec would have laughed if he weren’t fairly sure it would have hurt like hell.

“Right.” He nodded, recalling the memory. “Did I win?”

Izzy let out a choked laugh, Jace grinning.

“I’d say it was a fair fight. Well, it was quickly becoming decidedly less fair – I mean, he had claws – but then Magnus intervened and saved the day.”

Magnus?

Alec quickly glanced around, searching him out.

He was standing a little way away from them, as though to give them time alone. But his posture was rigid, and his gaze trained on Alec.

Their eyes met and Alec’s breath caught.

It was the most open expression he’d ever seen on Magnus’s face. He looked distraught, and Alec immediately felt bad. He knew that Magnus felt somewhat responsible for them, after saving them from the Seelies, and agreeing to help them on their quest instead of returning them back to the safety of their home. He hadn’t meant to worry him like this.

“I’m feeling a lot better.” He wrenched his gaze back to Izzy. “Help me up?”

He grit his teeth as he stood, leaning heavily on his siblings, trying not to show how much pain he was in. It felt as though someone had taken a cheese grater to his back, then split a rock over his head. But he seemed to be in one piece. And they had a secret Warlock Laboratory to find.

Magnus rushed over as soon as he was standing, though he refused to meet Alec’s gaze again.

“He should take some of this.” He held up a bottle of shimmering green liquid, speaking to Izzy. “I healed him on the outside, but he’ll still be in a lot of pain inside. This will help.”

Magnus had healed him? So that was why he wasn’t falling apart. Magnus had spent more of his magic on his behalf. He wasn’t sure whether he was more touched, or guilty. He knew that Warlock healing powers were what they were paid most for. Yet Alec knew that if he tried to offer Magnus money again, he’d be insulted.

He reached out wordlessly and took the potion, tipping his head back and downing it in one.

He felt Magnus’s worried eyes on him, as well as Izzy and Jace’s, as he squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn’t a pleasant taste, but the warmth that spread through him was most delicious. It spread like warm fire, muting the stinging pain to a manageable ache.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, giving the bottle back to Magnus and attempting to convey the weight of his gratitude in those two words.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Magnus said jovially, turning away from them. “Can’t have the Crown Prince dying on me, can I?”

Alec’s heart dropped a little even as he made himself grin. Of course, it was Magnus’s sense of duty to the Crown. That’s why he was doing this.

He found he could walk quite easily now, but Jace still insisted on helping him up onto his horse.

This time Magnus made them all go first, bringing up the rear himself. Though, he said, he doubted that anymore wolves would be troubling them.

“He was amazing.” Izzy told him, reverently. “He jumped down from that ridge when he heard us shouting. I was on the floor, but that wolf was tearing into you, and Jace was fighting the others off. He sent blue fire at the one on you, and it ran away. He did that light trick again, like with the Seelies, and you should have seen him Alec, they were all terrified. Then he lifted you with magic and spent about an hour healing you…you were bleeding so much…” she finished softly, staring down at the reins in her hands. “I don’t know what we would have done without you, Magnus.” She said, voicing Alec’s thoughts.

“Oh, I’m sure you would have been fine.” He said, breezily waving her off. “You over-exaggerate my talents, my dear.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Jace cut in. “I don’t say this often, Magnus, but thank you. For Alec.”

Magnus seemed stunned, offering Jace a small smile.

Alec was silent, astonished at Izzy’s description of Magnus saving them all. Especially him. An _hour_? He must have been badly hurt. Magnus must have spent even more energy on him than he’d initially thought. He chanced a glance over at him, wondering how he could ever repay him. He wondered if he could.

“Why did they attack?” Izzy asked.

Magnus sighed. “I’m not certain. But before…” he paused again, again seeming unsure whether or not he should talk about Valentine.

“Before?” Jace prompted.

“You must remember,” Magnus said, “it was a dark time. Mass genocide, that’s what he wanted. It made some Downworlders…antsy.”

“You’re saying Alec was just almost killed because those wolves were _antsy_?”

Jace asked testily.

“No, no.” Magnus said with haste. “Of course not. I am merely attempting to explain the behaviour I witnessed before. Then, some Downworlders lost everything. And it was, quite frankly, because of the Shadowhunters. Because some of them wanted to protect their own. It created bad feeling. Clearly, in some areas, that has not gone away. And now with his escape, perhaps it brings up old fears. Some Shadowhunters stood with Valentine, you know.” He added as Jace opened his mouth to retort again. “They have not forgotten that.”

“We understand.” Alec said quietly, and Magnus sent him a small smile.

Alec wasn’t sure that he did, not really…but then, he’d never lived through a war. Not one that he could remember, anyway. He wished no harm upon any Downworlder or Shadowhunter, but he had to remind himself that no everybody thought that way. Perhaps, if he became King, he could work towards better relations. That might be one good thing to come out of his responsibility to the Crown.

They continued riding for another half hour, Alec guessed, and the night was darkening around them. Just as he thought they’d have to rest and try to find the Spiral Labyrinth the next day, Magnus gave a cry.

“There it is!”

They straightened in their saddles, weary as they were.

“What?” Jace peered into the darkness around them.

“I can’t see anything!” Izzy called; Magnus had gone on ahead.

“No not yet, but I’ve found the energy signature I was looking for.” He called back.

He motioned for them to dismount, and they joined him where he stood, off the path. They were well into the mountains now, surrounded by grey rock and sparse mountainous terrain. The air was chilly and the night silent around them.

Magnus closed his eyes and held his arms out, palms upturned, concentrating.

“Aha!” He made them jump.

“It’s this way.” He grinned.

They followed him, intrigued, further off the path, where they tied their horses to an old tree hanging over a trickling stream, so they could drink some water.

Magnus was walking along a rock face back and forth, running his hands over it and muttering to himself.

“Do you think he’s gone mad?” Jace stage-whispered, jumping back before Izzy could elbow him in the stomach.

Alec ignored them, focusing on where Magnus had stopped and was now whispering words of a language he didn’t recognize to the rock.

“Maybe we’re not interesting enough to talk to.” Jace said, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Both Izzy and Alec opened their mouths to tell him to shut up when an ominous creaking sound reverberated through the night.

They shut their mouths and moved to join Magnus, where the rock face was receding, leaving a small space to squeeze through. They did so, emerging on the other side, to an expanse of land between several mountains, guarded from view by the tall, ragged peaks.

“”I give you…The Spiral Labyrinth!” Magnus exclaimed, last through. He gestured grandly toward the grand building set in the middle of the landscape, faltering as he took in the frozen figures of Izzy, Alec and Jace.

He turned to where they were gazing and his own mouth fell open in shock.

It was a grand building, or had been…but it was on fire.

Thick grey smoke billowed up towards the sky as angry, raging orange flames consumed the building, flickering angrily.

Alec was running before he’d decided to, the instinct controlling his actions like earlier that night. All aches and pains were gone as he raced towards the fire and the tiny figures clustered before it.

The cries of Izzy and Jace followed him, but he could sense another figure running behind him; Magnus.

He was out of breath by the time they reached it; Alec could still appreciate that it must have been majestic, but the fire must have been burning for some time now, and it was almost completely destroyed.

Warlocks ringed the building, all clad in the same silvery robes, all focused on the torrents of water they were raining upon their home. It didn’t seem to be doing much good, though.

“Magnus!”

A figure broke free, running to them and launching herself into Magnus’s arms.

Alec blinked twice before allowing himself to acknowledge that she did have blue skin, it wasn’t a side-effect of the pounding his brain had taken earlier.

“Catarina.” Magnus’s arms encircled her, gripping her tightly. “What happened?”

She was panting with exertion; Alec guessed trying to put out a fire so huge was no mean feat.

They were standing so close that he could feel the heat pouring from it, his skin feeling abnormally warm and clammy from mere proximity.

Even so, an icy chill swept over him as she answered.

“Valentine.”

She clutched at Magnus, who had gone still. Alec didn’t need to be looking at him to imagine the pain in his expression as he asked his next question.

“Catarina. Where is she? Where is Tessa?”

And he didn’t need to know Catarina to know what her answer would be.

“Magnus, I’m so sorry. He took her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, please leave kudos/comments if you liked it, they make me so happy :D I hope you've all had a wonderful week!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another familiar face pops up...drama ensues :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a filler chapter, more information, more talking...but important for the plot of the story. It's a bit shorter, but the next part is very detailed and it made sense to keep them separate :')

“Magnus?”

Izzy reached them, breathless from running. Her worried gaze was on Magnus, who was pale and still gripping Catarina, speechless. The light from the blazing fire illuminated their features in the darkness.

“Magnus, what happened?”

Alec turned to her when he didn’t answer.

“Valentine beat us to it.” He told her, shortly.

Her eyes widened.

“Tessa?” She asked.

“Yep. She’s gone.”

She exhaled sharply, mirroring Alec’s frustration. It seemed that Valentine was ahead of them at every step; executing his plan swiftly and successfully. Did they even have a plan, post recovering the Mortal Cup? Not really – Valentine though, seemed to have thought it all out.

Alec wondered if the Downworlders who’d clamoured for his execution had been right after all. Execution had been outlawed after the Mortal War, during which the casualties had been so great for all of them that the loss of anymore life was unthinkable. But in this case, though it may have seemed as though a prison sentence was justice, really, they’d given him sixteen years to plot their downfall. Which right now, seemed to be not that far away. If Tessa really was the only person alive who knew of the whereabouts of the Mortal Cup, how long would it take Valentine to break her? Alec shivered as he imagined what kinds of horrific torture she might be going through right now. Looking at Magnus’s pale, haggard face, he must be wondering the same. Alec remembered the conversation they’d had just that morning, when he’d included Tessa among the few members of his family. He wondered if it were the same as if Jace or Izzy were to be taken from him, and shivered at the thought. He didn’t go to him though, didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him. It would surely not help.

It was Catarina who spurred them into motion, shaking Magnus.

“You have to find her, Magnus, please.” She was saying. “I can’t leave – I have to help out here.”

She looked torn, as though she wished she could go searching for her friend. But the fires were still roaring, and much of what was inside the Labyrinth was essential to save, if possible.

“I know.” Magnus said, the calm of his voice betrayed only by a slight tremble. “It’s ok. I’ll find her.”

Catarina looked up at him, her eyes wide and trusting.

“Be careful, though. Please. Promise me.” She clutched at him, her hands shaking.

“I promise.” He murmured.

Alec tugged Izzy’s arm, moving to where Jace stood a little ways away, his expression hard as he surveyed the burning wreckage before them. He wanted to give Magnus and Catarina a little privacy.

“It’s real, then.” Jace murmured, softly. Alec wouldn’t have heard him if he weren’t so close.

“Valentine.” He continued. “It almost didn’t seem real before. It was just a fun adventure. Something to do.”

Alec nodded. He knew what Jace meant. They’d seen the empty space where the Mortal Sword had laid, heard the news of his escape. But until now Valentine had almost seemed like a ghost – a distant threat, somewhat removed from their lives. But now – the danger was real. They were at war. And they had willingly planted themselves in the middle of it.

“Do you regret leaving?” Alec asked.

“No.” Jace’s reply was firm. “If anything, it feels more justified. Seeing this – there’s no more choice in the matter. We have to stop him, by any means necessary.”

It sounded ever so final, but Alec couldn’t help agreeing. Izzy nodded silently. They formed a triangle, their heads bent together, as though bracing themselves for what was to come. They stood like that for a moment, their cold skin warmed by the heat rolling off the flames, drawing strength from one another. They stood there until they were interrupted by a small cough.

Catarina.

“I’m going to portal you all back now.” She said, in her soft voice. She seemed to have calmed somewhat since they’d arrived, a fierce light shining in her eyes.

“To Magnus’s. I don’t expect you to help him, but I understand that you might not wish to return home right now -”

“No, we don’t.” Jace replied, decisively. “And we are going to. Help. Whether you need it or not, Magnus.”

Magnus’s eyes widened slightly, something like pride glimmering in them as he and Jace gazed at each other. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, sighing.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have hoped for anything else.” There was a tone of amusement in his voice. “From you three.” He shook his head. “When we get back, we’ll start planning.”

He nodded at Catarina and she brought her hands up, crafting a shimmering blue portal door just like the one Magnus had created. Alec couldn’t help noticing that her movements were much less extravagant than Magnus’s; it seemed that the form of spell casting fit the Warlock’s personality.

She stepped back when it was done, leaning in to whisper in Magnus’s ear quickly. He nodded, and gave her a quick hug. Then they stepped through the portal, opening their eyes to find themselves in the back yard again, Magnus’s little cottage bathed in moonlight. Magnus arrived last, brushing himself down.

“What about our - ”

Izzy began, but Magnus snapped his fingers and their horses appeared beside them, making Izzy grin.

“Thank you.”

“No problem at all, sweet Isabelle.” Magnus replied, airily. He seemed to be back to his usual countenance, though Alec thought he detected a slight force in his light tone. “Why don’t you three go on ahead, I’ll make sure they’re safe in the barn.”

Izzy and Jace nodded thankfully, unable to hold back yawns. It had been a tiring day.

“I’ll help you.” Alec offered, ignoring Magnus’s protests and moving to take the reins of both his and Jace’s horses.

He led them into the barn, hearing Magnus follow a few moments later leading Missy, Izzy’s horse.

They were silent for a few moments, tying up the horses and removing their saddles. Alec picked up a large jug from the corner, moving to the tap to replenish the water in the trough.

“You know I have magic for that?”

Magnus remarked, breaking their silence.

Alec looked up to see him leaning against the door to a stall, the smooth nonchalance failing to reach his gaze.

“I think you’ve exerted yourself enough for one day.” He said, bending to lift the jug. Magnus was beside him in a second, helping him to bear the weight.

“And you haven’t?” His eyebrow was raised, the shadow of a smirk on his lips.

Alec’s breath caught in his throat for a moment at the sudden proximity. He wondered if he’d been this close when he was healing him.

He swallowed, fighting the urge to continue looking into his eyes. They carried the jug to the trough and emptied it, brushing their hands on their trousers.

Magnus leaned back against the stall again, observing him. Alec paused, wanting to say something, to console him. He’d just received some terrible news, though he didn’t let it show. But then, he didn’t want to remind him, to make it worse. He had no idea how Magnus was feeling.

“Thank you.” He blurted out, suddenly.

Magnus raised his eyebrows again, waiting.

“For healing me.” Alec specified. “You didn’t have to.”

Magnus’s lips twitched. “Oh, I don’t think many would have left you to suffer in that state. It was nothing.”

“They might have.” Alec persisted. “I’m a Shadowhunter. You don’t owe us anything.”

Magnus contemplated him for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought.

“I see people, Alexander.” He said finally. “Who they are. Not what they are. And who you are, is most definitely someone worth saving.”

Alec flushed. He couldn’t help it this time, didn’t even try to suppress it.

“Well…still. It must have cost you a lot of energy. I’m grateful.”

“You’re welcome, Alexander.” Magnus’s voice was soft. Alec suddenly felt very awkward, standing there in the middle of the barn, tired and aching but feeling light and jittery, for some reason. He had no idea what it was, he’d never felt this way before. Usually when he felt awkward for whatever reason, he extricated himself from the situation as soon as possible. But now, he wanted more than anything to stay, to carry on the conversation, to keep Magnus looking at him like that, with that soft, unreadable expression that set his stomach doing flips.

He’d just opened his mouth to say something – anything – when a loud yell coming from the direction of the cottage interrupted them.

They both froze for a moment, identical expressions of surprise and fear, before jumping into action.

Alec’s heart was in his throat as he raced toward the source of the sound. All he could think of was that Valentine had somehow found them, had come for Magnus and found Izzy and Jace first…

He burst into the kitchen, Magnus right behind him, coming up short as he took in the scene before him. Magnus crashed into his back as a result of his sudden stopping, causing him to stumble forward a few paces.

Alec was confused.

Jace had been the one to shout, but Alec couldn’t quite get his head around what he was seeing.

His brother was standing frozen by the kitchen sink, his arms thrown up in a universal sign of surrender. His body was angled towards the table, where a small red-headed girl crouched wearing a fierce expression and holding a butter knife which was pointing at Jace.

Izzy was stood in the doorway, looking as though she was trying not to laugh.

The girl threw a startled glance in their direction when they burst in, moving the knife to point at Magnus and Alec. Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed, and she was breathing heavily.

“Well, well, well.” Magnus said, also sounding as though he were holding back a laugh. “What do we have here?”

“I only came in for food.” Jace complained, his arms still up, looking put out. “She jumped out at me.”

“Good to know that’s all it takes to have you throw it in, Jace.” Alec remarked, derisively.

Magnus shook his head, suppressing a grin. He stepped around Alec, towards the girl, who frowned and gripped the knife even more tightly.

“Who are you, and why have you broken into my house?” He asked, not unkindly.

“I didn’t break in.” She answered, sharply. He raised an eyebrow. “I was sent here.”

Alec was sure the others were as confused as he.

“I’m looking for Magnus Bane.” She continued, her voice shaking slightly.

She couldn’t have been older than about fifteen, Alec thought, though he’d initially assumed she was about twelve. Now that she’d straightened up out of her crouch she was a little taller – though still shorter than all of them by a considerable amount – and she carried an air of confidence in the way she held the knife steady, even now.

“Well, you’ve found me.” Magnus moved towards her, his tone curious. “But you didn’t answer my first question. And who sent you?”

She raised her little pointy chin, lowering the knife now that she’d been introduced to Magnus.

“My name is Clary. I was sent here by Dot.”

 

.

 

Ten minutes later they were all seated in Magnus’s comfortable living room, the fire roaring and a mug of Magnus’s special, fragrant tea steaming in their hands.

All eyes were on Clary, who seemed to be unaffected by the attention, her expression blank and focused on the mug she was holding.

Her admission had shocked them all, but in the chaos of fifty questions being hurled at her at once, Magnus had called for silence and insisted they get comfortable before beginning what was sure to be a long evening.

Alec took a sip of his tea, sighing as it warmed him from the inside, trying to forget how tired he was. This was important.

Magnus was the first one the break the silence.

“So, biscuit…”

“My name is Clary.” She repeated, shortly.

Magnus grinned.

“Oh, I know. But your particular shade of hair colour reminds me of the most delectable spiced ginger biscuits a friend of mine used to make.” He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her. “You look just like your mother.”

Her head whipped up at that, her green eyes wide and staring.

“You know her?” She breathed.

“I wasn’t aware that she had a daughter.” He began, carefully. “But you cannot be anything but. How is dear Jocelyn?”

Alec heart skipped a beat at the familiar name. Jocelyn? _Valentine’s_ Jocelyn? He looked at Jace and Isabelle, who were wearing identical expressions of disbelief and confusion.

“But - ” Jace began, until Magnus shot him a warning glance.

He looked back to Clary, who without any warning, burst into tears. Alec’s shock turned to alarm, and he looked to Magnus for help, but the Warlock looked just as unsure, his face a mixture of pity and reluctance. Shockingly it was Jace who moved to comfort her, leaning across to place a hand on her forearm.

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re safe here. Why don’t you tell us how you got here, and why?”

Alec frowned. He’d never heard Jace use that tone with anyone. His adopted brother was usually first out the door when a situation of any emotional intensity presented itself.

“I – I – ” she sniffed. “I think my mother’s in trouble.” She had her face in her hands, her tea sitting forgotten on the table next to her. Jace rubbed soothing circles on her arm, his gaze intent on her. Alec felt a lick of jealousy deep in his stomach. He ignored it.

“Our house was attacked.” She said finally, when her sobs were more under control. “We never did anything…anything wrong…we did nothing illegal…it was only me, my mother and Dot…we were _normal_ , then strange people showed up, with all these tattoos…they had glowing swords…”

Izzy caught Alec’s eye, her alarm clear. A cold sensation was creeping through Alec’s veins. Jocelyn had been in hiding, he’d only recently found that out. And this girl didn’t seem to know anything about her mother’s former life, if her description of their attackers was anything to go by…

“We locked the doors but my mother was scared.” Clary sniffed, wiping her eyes. “She told Dot to take me to Magnus Bane, and suddenly there was this thing…this purple doorway…like it was made of light…”

 _Definitely_ _clueless,_ Alec thought, sighing internally. Why would Jocelyn have kept their world a secret from her daughter? He didn’t understand.

“She was meant to come with me, I think…but they broke the door down. I saw my mother with…with one of those swords, and Dot pushed me through. Everything disappeared and then I was in your house.” Clary finished quietly, lifting her head to meet Magnus’s eyes.

The Warlock was silent, contemplating her with an inscrutable expression. His finger was twisting in the air, as he subconsciously sent a small tendril of magic to stir his tea. Her eyes widened as she noticed this.

“You’re…you’re like her, aren’t you?” She whispered. “Like Dot?”

He nodded, smiling gently.

“Tell me, biscuit.” He leaned forward. “What else did you know about Dorothea? About you mother? About the people who came for her?”

Clary’s face twisted into a strange expression. She looked confused, but pained as well.

“I – I – nothing. I think…I don’t know.” She bit her lip.

Magnus grimaced, confusing Alec. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on here. All he knew was that this Clary-girl could be a threat to them, and Jace wouldn’t take his hand off her.

“I think perhaps…” Magnus began, slowly. “You might know more than you think you do.”

“What do you mean?” Clary shot back, defensively. “I have no idea who those people were. I didn’t know anything about Dot, or…or those glowing swords until today. I’ve lived in the same village my whole life, in a little farmhouse. Nothing strange, nothing. Until today.” Her voice broke at the end, her lip quivering. “I just want to find my mother. I want to know that she’s okay. But I don’t know where I am, or how to get home.”

Magnus’s voice was soft when he spoke to her again.

“Clary,” it was the first time he’d said her actual name. “Does the term ‘Shadowhunter’ mean anything to you?”

She shook her head, confused.

“Clary, I want you to look here. Concentrate.” He held a hand out in front of him, palm facing upwards.

“I don’t – oh.”

She gasped as he snapped his fingers and a brightly glowing blue clock-like symbol appeared. Alec thought he recognised it as a Warlock rune, though he didn’t know which one.

Clary’s eyes widened and her frown deepened as she stared at it.

“Shadowhunter...” she murmured. “I’m a Shadowhunter…”

Magnus snapped his fingers again and the rune disappeared.

“As I suspected.” He confirmed.

“What? What’s going on?” Isabelle asked. “How did she not know she’s a Shadowhunter?”

“Memory spell.” Magnus told them. He looked back to Clary, dwarfed by Magnus’s armchair, looking little and lost. “I suspect your mother had Dorothea periodically wipe your memories of the Shadow world.”

“Why would she do that?” Jace asked. Clary just sat in silence, staring at her lap. Alec wondered what she was remembering.

“Protection.” Magnus replied, keeping his eyes on Clary. “Tell me biscuit…is your father in your life?”

Isabelle gasped at the question, though Alec wasn’t sure why.

Clary shook her head slowly.

“My mother told me he died before I was born. She never spoke of him willingly.”

They looked to Magnus, whose expression was conflicted.

“And how old are you, Clary Fairchild?”

“I – Sixteen.” She replied, frowning. “That’s not my surname. It’s Fray.”

“Your mother was Fairchild when I knew her. Before she married your father.”

Alec and Jace gasped in unison, realising what Izzy had cottoned onto earlier.

Alec felt a cold weight settle in his stomach as he looked at Clary with new eyes.

 _Valentine’s daughter_?!

He glanced back at Magnus, fear spiking his veins. What if this was all just a trap? An elaborate ruse Valentine had set to capture Magnus? He had Tessa, sure…but if he had Magnus as well then he’d have leverage over her. He had no doubt that he would tell Valentine anything he wanted if it would save Jace or Izzy. You would do anything for the family you’d chosen.

But it didn’t seem as though Jace shared his concerns when he suggested so. The glare he was shot told him as much.

“What?” Clary was saying. “What about my father? Did you know him?”

“We don’t want to scare you, Clary.” Jace told her softly. Alec was disgusted.

“This is dangerous, Jace.” He said, through gritted teeth.

“Alec, she has a right to know who her father is.” Izzy cut in, logical as ever.

He looked round at Magnus, who was fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.

“Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad idea?” He asked to the room in general. “Magnus.” He turned to him. “Even if she has no idea, he could be tracking her. She could still be dangerous.”

“I understand, Alexander.” Magnus said, smiling ruefully. “But I trust Dorothea. And Isabelle is right. She should know.”

Alec leaned back, folding his arms, his glare back on Clary as he was outnumbered. She returned it just as coldly, a tiny distant part of him respecting her for not quailing under his gaze. Not a part that was big enough to influence him to treat her more softly, however.

“Clary.” Magnus said slowly, as though testing the name on his lips. “Would that be short for anything, biscuit? Or were you named after the herb?”

“Clarissa.” Clary replied flatly.

Magnus grinned ruefully. “Just as well. Clary Sage is renowned for aiding in the Sight, which clearly, has been taken away from you.”

“I want to know about my father.” She said again, refusing to be swayed. Alec felt another wave of hatred toward her. Magnus was only trying to make her more comfortable, he was sure that she would not like what they had to tell her.

“Very well, Clarissa.” Magnus leaned back. “But I do regret that it falls to me to tell you this dark truth.”

Her face paled, if that were possible, but her face was set.

“Your father’s name was – is – Valentine. Valentine Morgenstern.”

Her mouth opened slightly in shock.

“Wait – is? My father is still alive?”

“Yes.”

She brightened perceptibly. “Morgenstern…I would be Clary Morgenstern?”

“I don’t think,” Izzy piped up. “That you’d wish to be associated with that name.”

Clary looked confused. “Why not?”

Magnus sighed.

“Biscuit…the entirety of the Shadow World – us excluded” he motioned around the room. “Believe your mother to be dead.” He hesitated. “They believe that Valentine killed her.”

She shook her head violently. “No…but…why? He didn’t…”

“Not for lack of trying…” Izzy chipped in again.

“Izzy.” Alec hissed.

He might not be vying for head of the Clary Fray fanclub as Jace evidently was, but the girl had clearly had a tough night. Hearing that your father was actually alive – and had attempted to murder your mother – couldn’t be making it any easier.

“What?” Izzy looked unaffected. “She’s going to find out, she might as well hear it all now.”

To his surprise, Clary nodded. Her expression was hard.

“Yes. I want to hear it all now. Don’t try to spare my feelings, please. I want to know what my mother concealed from me, and then I want to find her.” Her lip quivered again as she finished, and Alec wondered if she were thinking what the rest of them clearly were – that she may no longer have a mother to find. He felt a little guilty at his earlier attacks on her.

To her credit, Izzy kept quiet, allowing Magnus to continue the story.

“Your mother faked her own death and escaped with Dot – and you, apparently, though nobody knew she was with child – and Valentine was locked away for his crimes.”

He didn’t elaborate here, and Clary didn’t ask. For tonight, the crime of splitting her family apart was enough.

“It seems that Jocelyn managed to keep a pretty low profile, until recently, when Valentine escaped. I would guess that it was he, or at least his followers, that sought you out.”

Clary closed her eyes for a moment, and Alec noted her composure. He wasn’t sure if he would have reacted so calmly to such news, but then, she had seen the attack with her own eyes. Perhaps it was just a relief to know to truth about the night – and indeed, her whole life.

“Do you think she’s dead?” She asked quietly, her eyes still closed.

Magnus paused.

“I cannot say.” He said, finally. “I can only assure you that we will find out. But from what I knew of him before…I do not think he would have killed her.”

“But before, you said he almost - ”

“In the heat of the moment, in the middle of a raging battle which he was losing, his temper was high, yes. She was his wife, and she had turned on him. But he did love her, Clary. He loved her more than anything. I want you to know that.”

She nodded curtly, opening her eyes.

“Will he come after me?”

“Did any of them see you, at your house?”

There was another pause, after which she nodded slowly.

Magnus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I will protect you as best I can, Clarissa Fairchild. But I think it’s fair to say that none of us are safe at this current moment in time.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our beloved characters continue to realise how out of depth they are...
> 
> Also, Malec ;) (but not that...not yet!)

The next day dawned bright and sunny, a stark juxtaposition to Alec’s mood and recent events.

He climbed out of bed carefully, so as to not disturb the still-sleeping Jace, scowling at the sunbeams peeking through the curtains as though they had done him a personal injustice. He dressed quickly and made his way downstairs, the peace of the early morning doing little to soothe his frustration. He’d glared at the closed door behind which Izzy slept as he went past. His protests the night before had been shot down and Clary had been shown to the room alongside her, since Magnus didn’t have another spare bed. Alec didn’t see what was wrong with having her sleep on the sofa, downstairs, far away from them all, but the others didn’t seem to agree.

Really…you’d think that everyone else had forgotten that they were currently at war with Valentine. Yet here they were, not thinking twice about allowing his secret, apparently ‘long-lost’ daughter to sleep beside his sister, as though it weren’t a dangerous notion at all.

He exhaled in frustration, storming into the kitchen before pausing, glancing around and walking straight through to the back garden.

Even though they had gotten to know him better now, and he knew that Magnus would want them to help themselves, he still didn’t feel comfortable rooting around in his kitchen. He decided that breakfast could wait, and headed to retrieve his weapons from the barn. Perhaps a few exercises would help to calm him.

He drew his sword and sank into a protective stance, focusing all his energy on the complicated set of training manoeuvres he’d perfected over the years, cutting savagely through the air in front of him.

 

.

 

Magnus yawned and stretched, luxuriating in the feeling of silken sheets against his skin.

Though he travelled a lot around Idris, he wasn’t used to being quite so busy. The constant threat of danger was exhausting enough; add on the weight of losing a beloved friend, creating portals, healing near-fatal wounds and discovering the long-lost daughter of Valentine and Jocelyn invading his kitchen…well, it was safe to assume that he’d fallen asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow. He’d slept for longer than he usually would have, but remained in bed for a few moments more.

In the space of a few short days, his world had been turned upside down.

If he’d known what series of events the summons to the Castle would have instigated…perhaps he wouldn’t have gone. Perhaps he would have packed a bag and portalled somewhere far away…outside of Idris, taking only his most treasured belongings, seeking out a life in the Mortal world.

It wasn’t uncommon for Downworlders to do so. In fact, most Vampires, Werewolves and Seelies lived elsewhere, even commanding great areas for their own. He knew that there was a large Vampire colony somewhere in Eastern Europe. Werewolves thrived in many parts of the world, specifically the Baltic countries and more recently, the America’s. Seelies could be found in almost every country, but they seemed to hold a particular affinity for the old countries; England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland. Warlocks, however, numbered much fewer than their fellow Downworlders. They were solitary; though enjoying companionship, it was unheard of for them to live in groups of larger than three. Any more could get dangerous; even three was a lot of power under one roof. Magnus did know of a few who had settled outside of Idris, but it was difficult for them to integrate into human society. Some refrained from doing magic, but it was their nature. Some were lucky enough to find societies that welcomed the presence of benevolent sorcerers, and the Warlock was able to make a living selling magic tonics and charms. In most places, however, magic was feared, and the Warlock ostracised or driven out. Magnus preferred to avoid that kind of intolerance. Though the majority of Shadowhunters were far from friendly, at least he wasn’t in danger of death from living close to them.

He rose slowly, the unfamiliar feeling of magical fatigue hanging over him. It wasn’t often he was required to drain so much of his power…but it had been necessary.

A shiver swept over him as he recalled how close Alec had been from death. The wolves had not merely been angry; they’d planned to kill. Magnus knew that they were likely to be more hostile, but he hadn’t banked on that level of danger. And he’d led the King’s children right into it.

At least they were safe now, under his roof, away from danger. And perhaps today he could encourage them to abandon their quest, to leave it up to their father and his legion of knights. Now that they had witnessed for themselves how dangerous it is…

He dressed for the day, selecting his brightest and most outlandish fabrics. It was sure to be another long one, attempting to unravel the past and the mystery of Clarissa Fairchild’s existence. His clothes made him happy, so he wanted to at least attempt to set the mood for the day.

He chose a bright pink tunic that had a darker floral pattern around the hem and tiny diamonds glinting on the sleeves. He cinched it with a silver belt and made sure to leave three buttons undone, showing off the array of colourful necklaces that hung against his chest. He paired it with royal blue pants of a dark, shimmery material that clung to his body and made him look rather dashing, he thought, as he appraised his reflection in the large gilded mirror that stood beside his door. He applied his make-up perfunctorily, only a line of black around his eyes, a neutral gloss on his lips and a light dusting of shimmer on his cheeks. His outfit was striking enough without it, and it was still early – he didn’t want to blind any of his guests.

He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, expecting that they were all still asleep. They’d all had exhausting days, both mentally and physically. He was surprised, then, to hear rhythmical thudding sounds coming from his garden. His curiosity peaked; he closed the fridge he’d been searching for breakfast ingredients and leant forward to look out of the window.

His heart stopped.

He couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped, and was silently thankful that he was alone.

It seemed that one of his guests hadn’t needed extra time asleep.

Alexander looked as though he’d been awake for a while now, if the weapons strewn around him were any indication. He was holding a bow, a half-empty quiver of arrows strapped to his back – his _bare back…_ Magnus noted. He stood frozen for several moments, eyes wide, taking in the smooth expanse of skin, skin that was gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, the morning sunlight glinting off the chiselled muscles of his shoulders and biceps, muscles that were undulating and flexing as he swiftly sent arrow after arrow into the trunk of Magnus’s apple tree, oblivious to the fact that he was no longer alone, oblivious to the effect he was having on Magnus.

 

.

 

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

Alec breathed rhythmically, in time with the arrows.

Draw on the in-breath, his whole body taut and tense, breathing out as his fingers released, sending the arrow deep into the tree trunk.

He’d always worked out in order to relieve frustration. And he got frustrated a lot. Hence, he was in pretty good shape, for a Prince who didn’t really have any practical obligations. His father had required both he and Jace to receive a rudimentary Knights training; such was expected of royal adolescents. But they had both taken to it, training outside of the required sessions, both together and separately, honing their skills. Alec wondered if it had all been for a purpose they hadn’t known of before, all leading up to this mission. For their physical abilities were sure to be tested alongside their cunning, if they were to bring Valentine down.

His mouth tightened.

_Bring Valentine down._

How ludicrous that sounded. He wasn’t under any illusions how difficult – and likely impossible – the task they’d set themselves was. But he was no longer tagging along merely in order to protect his siblings from harm. After all they’d learned, and what they’d witnessed so far…he couldn’t possibly do anything else. He could not return home and pretend that everything was okay. He could not leave innocent downworlders in the path of Valentine, could not allow them to be slaughtered mercilessly…he could not leave Magnus to this crusade, after they’d unwittingly involved him in the first place.

No.

He’d known that there was no turning back when they’d left the sanctuary of the Castle, and that was possibly even truer now.

They would bring Valentine down, or they would die trying.

A grim smile played across his lips as he released his final arrow. It flew true, following the exact path as the one before it, splitting its shaft in two before burying itself deep into the wood.

He would have to fashion another, but he didn’t mind. With his bow, he was skilled. He was powerful. He could almost imagine a victory against Valentine.

“Impressive.”

Alec gasped, fumbling with his bow, whirling round at the unexpected intrusion.

Magnus stood in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame. His lips were pulled up into a smirk and his gaze raked over Alec’s chest, heaving with exertion, and now, embarrassment.

It was astonishing – a small voice in the back of Alec’s brain supplied – how quickly he lost his composure when faced with an attractive man.

He felt a blush flooding into his cheeks at that assertion, swallowing and trying not to look at the place where Magnus’s necklaces dropped below the v-neck of his tunic. It was a difficult task though. It was so brightly coloured Alec couldn’t _not_ look at it, and when he looked at it, he couldn’t _not_ look at the exposed area of chest. He felt as though Magnus chose his clothing with the intent to distract him. He suddenly felt awkward and twitchy, all too aware of his own state of dress – or undress. The sun was too hot, his bow too heavy, and his shirt lying crumpled on the grass too far away. His fingers itched to go and get it, but something in Magnus’s gaze kept him rooted to the spot.

“I – I’m sorry.” He stuttered. “I didn’t think anyone was up.” His hand fluttered awkwardly in the direction of his shirt.

“Oh, you don’t have to get dressed up for me…” Magnus drawled, noticing the direction in which his attention was pulled. Was it just Alec’s brain being exceptionally unhelpful, or did he sound _seductive_ …? Either way, Alec was sure he was about to spontaneously combust from the heat of the gaze upon him. He dropped his bow and went to his shirt, hastily pulling it on despite Magnus’s words. Surely he was just being nice. But it would be the height of impropriety to walk around someone else’s home shirtless. He had been raised to practice decorum.

He turned around to see Magnus’s eyes on him still, and found that it was possible to blush even deeper.

“Um…I…did you…sleep well?” He managed to ask.

“I did, thank you Alexander. Did you? How are you feeling today?” His brow furrowed ever so slightly.

“Oh, good…a lot better, thanks.”

There was a slightly awkward pause…at least, Alec felt awkward. Magnus looked as though he couldn’t be more relaxed.

“So, did my tree attempt to attack you?” he asked at last, glancing toward the oak, its trunk peppered with Alec’s arrows.

“Oh!” Alec’s face dropped. “No…I, I’m so sorry…I just wanted to practice.” He felt awful. What if Magnus had some sort of special attachment to that tree? He hadn’t even thought about it, he’d just started firing.

Magnus laughed and Alec turned to look at him in amazement.

“Its fine, Alexander.” He waved his hands. “Don’t look so worried! It’s just – it doesn’t really seem as though you need the practice.”

“Oh.” Alec sighed in relief, pushing his fingers through his hair. He didn’t worry about it as he normally would – his hair was already ruined from the exertion of his exercise, and Magnus had seen him at his worst the day before.

“Yeah. I like archery.”

“I can tell.” Magnus smirked. “Maybe you can teach me, someday?”

Alec’s eyes widened. He imagined teaching Magnus how to hold a bow, how to notch an arrow, pull the string taut and aim. He would surely have to stand by his side. Maybe even touch him, to correct his hold. His heart quickened as he imagined showing Magnus how to stand. Would it be possible, without holding his hips steady? His mouth went dry as images flicked through his mind, his skin prickling in misplaced anticipation.

“Or not…if you don’t want to.” Magnus’s voice interrupted him, thankfully.

 _What was this?_ He’d had these kinds of thoughts before, about Jace, when they’d first started training together. But he’d managed to filter them out, learned to ignore them. Now, under Magnus’s curious gaze, he felt a victim of them once more.

“No, no…I can teach you.” He spluttered, breaking their gaze. “Um…when we have time.”

He hoped they would never have time.

“Good morning!”

 

.

 

Magnus jumped as Isabelle’s voice rang out from over his shoulder. He hadn’t even heard her approach, so focused he had been on Alexander.

He thought he deserved a medal for his composure that morning.

Seeing him through the window had been one thing, but when he’d turned around…

Dear Lord, Magnus had wanted to drop down to his knees and send prayers to the Angels he now knew existed. For surely heaven had, itself, blessed Alexander’s glorious, perfectly sculpted abs. Even after he had covered them up, their image burned at the forefront of Magnus’s mind. Really, it was a miracle he’d managed to form words and speak them without tripping up.

He’d lived a long time.

But he’d never seen such a beautiful body.

He turned away regretfully, plastering a bright smile onto his face.

“Isabelle! Good morning to you. Might I say you’re looking lovely today?”

She preened at the compliment, the words he’d almost blurted out to Alexander but stopped himself. He had looked awkward enough, and always got more so when Magnus made flirtatious comments. Magnus needed to remind himself that he was off limits; now more than ever.

They were in the middle of a war, distractions would only speed them toward their likely demise. Even if Alec was attracted to men – and sometimes Magnus thought he just might be, from the way he blushed under his gaze and the covert glances of admiration he shot Jace when he thought no-one else was looking – he was a Prince.

A Shadowhunter Prince.

A mortal Shadowhunter Prince.

He sighed internally.

His heart really couldn’t have picked a worse person to fixate on.

He shook himself, banishing such thoughts to the back of his mind.

“Who’s up for some breakfast?”

Soon the kitchen was full of delicious aromas, and Magnus busied himself with filling the table with food. It had been a long time since his house had been full, and he welcomed the distraction now. He tried to ignore the fact that Alec had taken it upon himself to help, commandeering the task of laying plates and cutlery on the table without having been asked. Clary joined them in the midst of it all, striking up an amiable conversation with Izzy, and Jace wandered in, stretching and yawning just as they were sitting down to eat. Magnus pretended not to catch the look Alec shot him as his shirt rode up a little, exposing a thin line of tan skin. He ignored the twinge in his heart. Such feelings would just not do.

He reached for a breakfast muffin and some fruit, busying himself in the task of eating. Silence descended over the table, as they all realised how ravenous they were. They hadn’t actually eaten last night, what with the distractions of Clary and their weariness.

She didn’t seem to have forgotten her purpose in being there, though.

“Thank you for all this, Magnus.” She said, suddenly. “But…do you have any idea how I’m going to find my mother? Or, if…” her voice trailed off toward the end, small and hesitant.

Magnus immediately felt sorry for her. She’d lost everything, in the course of one night.

“Of course, of course, biscuit. That is our priority.”

“It is?” Alec frowned. “What about Tessa?”

“Valentine must be in league with Warlocks as I cannot track her.” He paused, and a shade of sadness passed over his face. “There are wards preventing me from doing so. However, if I have something of hers, of Jocelyn’s and of Dot’s – providing they are being kept in the same place – I may be able to make something out.”

Isabelle pursed her lips. “How do we know they’re still alive? Sorry.” She aimed the last word at Clary, whose lip was trembling.

“I do not think that he would kill Jocelyn. He would much rather have her by his side, have her agree to stand with him.”

“She would never do that.” Clary said, hotly. “He sounds awful. And she hid from him for sixteen years. He can’t possibly think -”

“I agree, Clarissa.” Magnus bowed his head. “Jocelyn would not agree lightly. But I fear that he has not much reason to keep Dot alive…Tessa he needs in order to find the cup, but Dot…” He frowned. “I will go to your house, Clary, and retrieve the items I need. Then I will return and cast the tracking spell.”

The table erupted in protestations at that.

“I want to come with you.” Clary said, stubbornly. “I have to see what he did to my house. I have to see it.”

“No way.” Jace retorted. “It’s too dangerous. They’ll have people watching the house, just in case you return. Let Magnus go alone.”

“If it’s too dangerous, why are we letting Magnus go alone?” Alec glared at Jace. “I’ll go with you.”

Magnus was touched, but agreed with Jace.

“I am capable of glamouring and protecting myself. I can’t necessarily do the same for Clarissa, or for you.”

“How will you know which items are best to track them with? It has to be something she’s attached to, right?” Clary challenged.

They all turned to stare at her, the girl who just the night before hadn’t even known she was a part of their world.

“Izzy’s been filling me in.” She added.

“Ok, yes, that’s true. But Clary, these people are dangerous. And if they capture you, they’ll have leverage. Your mother will do anything Valentine wants.” Isabelle voiced reason.

“Perhaps Clarissa is right.” Magnus said, slowly. “She will be able to lead me to the items with the strongest affinity to Jocelyn and Dot.”

“If Clary’s going, then I’ll come and watch your backs.” Jace offered.

“I’m not letting you go without me.” Alec shot in. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Well I’m not staying here by myself while you all risk your necks.” Isabelle pouted. “I’m in.”

Magnus sighed as the four obstinate teenagers he was beginning to regret housing turned to him, eyebrows raised.

“I can’t ensure your safety if you accompany me.” He warned again.

“That’s ok.” Jace said, easily. “We can fight.”

Magnus’s lips twitched.

“I don’t doubt that, young Herondale. But you’ve seen how powerful and dangerous angry Downworlders can be. I promise you that anyone working for Valentine will be twice as bad.”

“We’ll be careful.” Alec assured him, sending a glare at Jace. He still didn’t agree with this mission, but recognised the futility of protesting. He knew there was no way his brother and sister were staying in the safety of Magnus’s cottage, so once again, he would follow them. He only hoped they all made it back alive.

They finished breakfast then, and set about planning. Clary sat down with Magnus to pinpoint the location he would need to portal them to.

Izzy ran upstairs to change; no doubt to attach all her various hidden holsters and polish her whip.

Alec persuaded Jace to spar with him; if there was the possibility of a fight, he wanted them to be as prepared as possible.

Dusk was falling when Magnus declared them ready to go. He’d been sequestered away with Clary for most of the day; apparently building a portal to a place he’d never been before required much more magic and careful construction than regular ones.

They discovered that Jocelyn had settled outside of Idris, in the mundane world, albeit close to the border. Magnus praised this decision; it would have meant that she would not be around any other Shadowhunters and therefore be able to hide who she was and raise Clary as a mundane, but if she had need to return to Idris for whatever reason, she was still close.

Magnus estimated that it would have taken them three days to ride there, which was a possibility, but none of them wished to waste the time or risk other Downworlder attacks. So a portal it was.

Alec, Jace and Izzy had attached all their weapons to themselves and dressed in the same dark clothes they’d worn when they’d first left home. Alec bristled to see Jace giving Clary a knife, and showing her how to strap it onto her belt.

He still didn’t trust her; he would be sure to keep one eye on her at all times.

They all filed outside to where Magnus stood, now in a dark grey tunic and forest green pants, next to a shimmering blue portal door.

Alec glanced back toward the cottage, toward the place that had become a base to him in so little time. He looked back towards the Warlock who didn’t have to help them, but who had rescued them from the forest, given them a place to sleep, fed them, healed him and displayed kindness like he’d never known before. And all for nothing in return. Alec wasn’t a fool, he knew that Magnus was involved now for reasons beyond them. He was involved for his friend, and for the threat on his race. But even so…he was with them. He had already proved an indispensable ally…and friend. Alec hadn’t even known him a week, but it felt like so much longer.

 

.

 

Stepping through the portal was different this time.

They didn’t know exactly where they were going, just that there was a great possibility of danger.

The portal opened out onto a small grassy hillside. There wasn’t much in the way of surroundings; just fields, a few cows and in the distance, what looked like a small village. At the bottom of the hill, however, was a house.

Or at least, it had been a house.

The frame was – mostly – still standing, but much of it had been burned away, the wood blackened and ash covering the grass.

Clary let out a small sob when she saw it, and even Alec felt a little sorry for her. What they weren’t prepared for, however, was her sudden mad dash towards the house.

Alec sighed internally before following Jace and Izzy after her. He may not care much for her, but if she threw herself into harm’s way and ended up dead, he was sure to feel at least a little guilty.

“Wait! Clary!” Jace shouted, tearing after her.

“Clary, it could be dangerous!” Izzy called, hot on his heels.

“Stop!” Magnus called, his voice rife with warning.

They skidded to a halt a few metres from the ruin, turning to face Magnus. Clary’s face was streaked with tears.

His hands were lit up with blue flame and he looked dangerous, in dark clothing, the flickering light bringing out the sharpness of his cheekbones, the fierceness in his eyes.

“There’s someone else here.” He warned, advancing on the house.

Alec’s breath caught, his hand flying to his quiver. He notched an arrow and followed Magnus, hearing a faint _snick_ as Jace drew his sword.

Magnus pushed the door open, taking care not to make a sound. It wasn’t much use though – surely whoever was inside had heard them shouting as they ran down the hill. It hadn’t been the subtlest of approaches.

They fell into formation, spreading out in the blackened room. It smelt of dust and decay; it didn’t look like a site where the attackers would have left survivors.

There were three doors leading out, darkness beyond them. Alec motioned with his head, and his siblings nodded. They took a door each, creeping further into the gloom. Alec’s skin prickled. It was silent – too silent, he thought. And Magnus had said there was definitely someone there with them. Were they hiding? Waiting to sneak an attack?

He fumbled in his pocket, taking out his witchlight. It compromised his hold on the bow, but he had to see.

Just as it lit up in his hands, a loud, terrified scream echoed through the house.

He gasped and dropped it, notching his arrow once more.

He kicked another door open, senses on high alert, searching for the source of the noise. Magnus burst into the room opposite him, followed by Izzy, bringing with him a floating ball of light.

Alec’s senses were overwhelmed for a second; he had to blink a few times before the room swam into focus.

He narrowed his eyes, raising his bow.

Jace was stood in the middle of the room, frozen once more, in a dark facsimile of the night before. Only this time it was he holding he weapon, and not his assailant.

In the corner crouched a boy – probably around their age, Alec thought, though he was thin and clearly lacked muscle of any kind. He had dark brown hair that curled into his eyes, and was currently wearing a terrified expression as his gaze darted between them, and the weapons they had focused on him.

“Who are you?” Alec’s voice was hard. He was confused, his brain wracking through possible explanations. Was this a diversion? Why would Valentine send this scrawny boy against them? Was he faking his fear, and going to lash out at any moment?

“Nobody! I – I’m nobody, I swear!” He threw his hands up, trembling. “I was just - ”

But he was interrupted.

“Simon!” Clary gasped, entering from another door and dashing across the room. She dropped to her knees and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

He couldn’t have looked more relieved, Alec thought, wryly. He lowered his bow a fraction, glancing at his siblings.

Clary was murmuring to the boy, running her hands through his hair while he grasped at her for dear life. He felt a little awkward. Thankfully, he could rely on Magnus to defuse the situation.

“Are we going to get an explanation, or should we just stand in this charming room all night?” He asked, throwing a distasteful glance around.

“Oh…right.” Clary said, standing up. She pulled on the boy’s hand. “This is Simon, my best friend.”

Alec pretended not to hear to exhale of relief that came from Jace.

“He’s a mundane?” Izzy asked, her tone interested. She stepped forward her whip carving a silver trail in the dust behind her.

Simon’s eyes widened perceptibly as he took her in, all dark clothes, silver weapons and her dark eyes trained on him. He gulped.

“Um…I’m a what?” He asked, dazedly. Alec huffed in irritation, Magnus throwing him an amused glance.

“Mundane.” She repeated silkily, reaching out to run a finger across his cheek. “Human.”

“Yes, I – um…what?” Simon asked again. If his eyes got any wider, Alec thought, they were going to fall out. “You’re not human?”

Izzy giggled. “Not entirely.” She smiled at him then, her brightest, most dazzling smile Alec knew had broken the hearts of several dozen Lords, Knights and servant boys back at the Castle.

Simon gulped again.

“Makes sense.” He whispered, and her grin grew wider.

“As nice as this is.” Jace interrupted drily, and Alec was thankful. “Should we maybe get on with it? The longer we’re here the more dangerous it is.”

“Sorry…what’s dangerous?” Simon asked slowly, seemingly still in an Isabelle-induced stupor. “Wait…Clary, where have you been? And what happened to your house?”

“I’ll tell you later Simon, but we need to go. Why are you here?” She frowned.

“You were supposed to come over for lunch, remember? My mother made the pie you like. When you didn’t show, I thought I’d see if you were alright, and…” he trailed off, the blackened walls finishing his thought for him.

“Right. Well…we all need to get out of here…”

She turned to look at Magnus, who sighed.

“I suppose we can escort young Sigmund back home.”

“Simon.” The boy corrected, but no-one was listening to him.

“But first, we need to try and find something of your mother’s in the midst of all this.”

“Oh, I have it.” Clary piped up. She picked a small box up from the ground, where she’d dropped it upon seeing Simon.

“Everything else is destroyed, but my mother kept this hidden under the floorboards.”

“Nice.” Jace said approvingly, going over to inspect the box.

“Why do you think they set the fire, though?” Clary asked Magnus, worried. “Do you still think my mother’s…”

“Oh, yes.” Magnus reassured her. “And if I’m not mistaken, dear Jocelyn was the one who set this fire.”

“What?! She wouldn’t…”

“To protect you.” He said, kindly. “She knew that they’d seen you, and that Valentine would know that she had a daughter. If they managed to take something of yours, they could have tracked you, and you’d have been taken by now.”

She was silent, as that information sank in. Alec was struck suddenly by how small she looked, standing there in the middle of her burned out house, pale skin, messy, dust-coated hair, clutching at a small box that was all she had left of her mother – of the life she’d known.

“Right, well if we have everything…should we get going?” He asked, breaking the silence. Simon may not have been working for Valentine, but there was still a chance they’d be found by someone who did. He was anxious to get his siblings to safety.

“Of course.” Magnus snapped his fingers again, and a second ball of light appeared, glowing in mid-air. Simon’s mouth dropped open.

“After you,” Magnus swept an arm in front of him, gesturing them ahead.

Alec followed Jace, frowning at the way Izzy had latched herself onto Simon’s arm, pulling him along with her.

Once outside they turned in the opposite direction to the hill, Clary leading them along a thin path that would lead to Simon’s village.

Alec wasn’t sure why, but he was tense. He kept his arrow notched, walking carefully, watching the area around them. But there was nothing there. He had just begun to relax – and they had almost reached the village – when disaster struck.

Magnus let out a cry of surprise and instantly his balls of light disappeared, plunging them into darkness. Alec was aware only of dark shapes whipping around them in the weak glow the moon provided. His heart was racing, his arrow ready to release – but he couldn’t see who he was aiming at. He wouldn’t dare to risk hitting any of his companions.

This only lasted a few seconds, however, before Magnus’s lights flashed back into existence.

He was on the floor, Alec saw, looking rather disgruntled, but otherwise unhurt. He let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He glanced round quickly, feeling the rest of the tension evaporate as he noted Jace, Izzy and Clary still there. But something was still wrong…

“Simon!” Clary shouted, whirling in a circle, as though she expected to find him hiding behind her.

Damn. He’d forgotten the mundane. Izzy and Jace were looking just as concerned, and Simon was nowhere to be seen.

“What was that?!” Izzy asked, her whip coiling dangerously around her.

Magnus grimaced, pushing himself up. Alec rushed to help him. He definitely didn’t note how strong his arm felt under his fingers. He flushed, grateful for the semi-darkness.

“Vampires.” Magnus answered, flatly. He narrowed his eyes, moving forward to pick up a small scrap of paper on the ground. Alec could see something written on it, in ink as red as blood. A chill passed over him.

“What does it say?” Izzy moved closer to him.

He looked up, his brow furrowed, before reading in a grim voice:

_“He will be returned to you, Shadowhunters, when you have returned what is ours.”_

He cast Clary a sympathetic glance.

“What does that mean?” She threw her arms up. “And did you say _Vampires?!_ ”

“It means…” Magnus began, slowly. “That something has been stolen from them. They think you’re to blame, and seem willing to exchange Simon for this…thing.”

“But we haven’t taken anything!” Jace exclaimed. “We’ve never even met a Vampire!”

“It’s alright Clary.” Izzy put an arm around her. “We’ll get him back.”

“How are we supposed to find these Vampires? It could be any clan. We don’t know, because we didn’t steal anything.” Alec crossed his arms. If there were a list of things he thought he’d be doing tonight, rescuing an interfering, oblivious mundane from a clan of murderous vampires wouldn’t have cracked the top thousand.

“I know where he is.” Magnus’s voice was still soft.

“You do?” Izzy sounded excited.

“How, magic?” Jace asked.

“No.” Magnus stared at the note in his hands, his fingers brushing over a dark red kiss mark.

“Not magic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm really enjoying following this deadline I've set myself, but the chapters are getting longer now and I have a busy few weeks coming up, not to mention that I'll be away for a few days next week...so the next chapter will be up two weeks today and hopefully during that time will manage to write ahead a little!
> 
> I hope y'all are enjoying this so far, its so different to anything else I've ever written, fanfiction or otherwise, but I'm loving it so far! Lots of drama and fluffy stuffs to come xD
> 
> And I wonder who the note is from...hmm....it's a huge mystery ;)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone's favourite, and everyone's least favourite vampires appear! Drama. Intrigue. Mild angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. My intended two week break turned into a very much unintended six week break, due to...well...life. Which is unavoidable, unfortunately, no matter how much I try to avoid it by writing. Sometimes it gets in the way. But I am back on this story and hope to get a chapter out roughly every two weeks, since University is starting back again, though it may be more often if I manage to write quickly, or less often if I have essay deadlines looming. We shall see! (basically covering all my bases and not promising anything. Except to finish this. That I can promise.)

Camille.

Of course it was. Who else?

For Magnus, she would always be there. If not in person, then as a perennial, ever-present spectre kept alive in his memories by the strength of the pain she had caused him…the love he had once held for her poisoned. It would never go away, and he had made his peace with that many years ago. But now…it seemed to him that she was no longer satisfied with causing him pain through his memories. She would seek him out, perhaps until the end of time, every now and then, simply for the pleasure of twisting the knife she’d plunged deep into his heart so long ago.

He wasn’t so foolish to think that this time it was all about him…that it was ever all about him. He knew that she was as smart as she was cruel. How better to play with him, than to play with his mind as well as his heart? She had made sure, throughout the decades, to seek him out only when there was an overriding reason. It was her way of reminding him how insignificant he was to her…how she was always thinking of other things – more important things – over him. Even when they had been together, he had only seen her when it suited her. When she had needed something besides his company. It had made him feel useful, wanted, needed. For a time. When the veil had been lifted, he had seen her for what she truly was. And that was ugly – no matter how beautiful she might have seemed at first.

He shook his head in disbelief. He wondered what gods he had pissed off so thoroughly, not only to be cursed with an immortal life, a half-life, but to share that life alongside Camille.

And she knew him too well. Sometimes he hated himself for that; for having allowed her to penetrate the deepest layers of his character, of his self. She knew exactly how to manipulate him, even now. There was always something – some reason, some emergency – that appealed to his better nature, and this was why he failed to avoid her each time.

This time, it was a mundane.

Magnus wondered if, perhaps, the mundane hadn’t been tied to him through a chain of such people, if he would have been able to ignore the summons this time. If he would have walked away, let someone else stage the rescue and face his bitch of an ex-girlfriend.

But even though he did not know that boy at all, it was the blasted chain that tied them together, inextricably. He hated Camille even more for her master manipulation. How had she known?

The mundane – Simon, he remembered – was linked to Clary. Jace seemed to have his heart set on helping her, and Alec would go where Jace led. And Magnus would be damned if he’d let Alec walk into the lion’s den without him.

It was purely protection, he told himself. Making sure the future King of Idris kept his head – and his mortality. Nothing more.

He shook his head, turning to gaze at his companions. Shadowhunters. He never could have foreseen that he’d become so entwined with Shadowhunters again.

But it seemed that life could still surprise him.

 

.

 

Alec sat on a rock outside the impromptu shelter Magnus had conjured up at the foot of the hill. He’d also cast protection spells around them, just in case any of Valentine’s minions returned to the area.

Everyone else was in the tent, making plans to go and rescue the mundane. Alec had volunteered for guard duty, though Magnus had told him his spells would alert them to any danger. He’d wanted to be outside and alone, to sulk in silence.

He no longer believed that Clary was a threat; it was clear to see that anyone would hate the man who had demolished their home like that, the fury and pain in her eyes as she’d looked upon the ruins had been starkly evident. But that didn’t mean he liked her. She’d done nothing but de-rail them from their mission and bring them into the path of danger. It could have been any one of them that the vampires had taken…it could have been Jace or Izzy.

He suppressed a shiver at that line of thought. He did understand Clary’s need to rescue her friend, and felt a little sorry for him too. He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But even so, it wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t their mission – they needed to rescue Tessa and find the Mortal Cup before Valentine had a chance to unite the mortal instruments and kill them all. When he’d tried to explain that, however, he’d only been glared at.

Magnus was an exception, at least his glance had been sympathetic and understanding. But he’d followed the others into the tent and was contributing toward plans to rescue the boy.

If Alec was honest – and he only allowed himself to be in his mind – he was also a little scared.

Vampires?

He remembered only too well his first encounter with werewolves, which he’d only survived thanks to Magnus, and the Seelies…likewise. He was still wrapping his head around the extent to which the hatred Downworlders held for Shadowhunters ran. He had never thought it to be so bad. Shadowhunters had won the war for Downworlders (with their help, of course) and he had always been taught that they owed them everything. That was why Shadowhunters ruled and Downworlders kept away. But having been out in the world for several days now, and all he’d witnessed, he wondered how many of his lessons had been lies. How much of what he’d been taught was a falsehood? So many of the claims about the nature of Downworlders Magnus had managed to refute unknowingly within mere hours of his company. He had proved to be of better character than most – if not all – Shadowhunters he knew.

Alec wasn’t so prejudiced to think the same of all Downworlders, though he had to admit, that was a recent change. But still, he didn’t fancy facing this group of vampires.

He scowled to himself, ignoring the low buzz of chatter coming from inside the tent. He focused on the strip of wood in his hands, and the small knife he was using to whittle it into an arrow.

He may as well use the time doing something useful, if they were to walk willingly into such danger.

 

.

 

The sun was beginning to rise at they set off, the early morning light coalescing with the thin layer of mist that blanketed the fields around them. It was beautiful, mystical. But none of them paid it any heed. They were all too tired, too focused.

Magnus vanished the tent and remains of the fire they’d used to cook a small meal in one snap of his fingers, eliminating any sign that they had been there.

None of them had slept, but Magnus had conjured some coffee to keep them going. Alec marvelled once again at what they would have done without him – most likely have been killed already, his mind supplied.

They’d decided to wait until sunrise – though Clary had wanted to go immediately – because in the likely event that their rescue mission hit a bump, they’d only have to run outside to escape the vampires.

Magnus seemed uncharacteristically quiet as he created the portal that would take them to the Vampire’s Lair, but then again, they all were. This was a serious mission they were about to undertake.

Clary’s mouth was set in a hard line and she kept her hand wrapped firmly around the hilt of the sword Jace had given her. She was untrained, but Alec didn’t envy the vampire who crossed her path. He’d seen that fierce look in her eyes one too many times on Izzy, just before she’d knocked him to the ground on the few occasions they’d sparred together, before their parents had deemed her too old for such ‘childish antics’. Alec had silently agreed, back then. He respected her as an opponent, but her life would be a quiet, lady-like one at court, not on the battlefield. Or so he’d thought. He’d felt comfort in the idea of the safe life that had lain ahead of her, even though he knew she would rebel against it. In his wildest dreams he wouldn’t have imagined a future as fraught with danger as theirs was now.

But life had a funny way of surprising you, he supposed.

Looking at her now, he knew that this had always been her future.

She was standing tall, cutting a fierce, severe figure in her close-fitting, black fighting gear. The sight of the various knives she had strapped to her no longer shocked him. They suited her, they seemed in place. Much more so than the tiara and fancy jewels she had left behind. Her whip glistened around her wrist and her eyes were lit with an intense fire; focus as well as joy.

This was where she belonged, Alec thought. This was the life she was destined for. She enjoyed the fight, and the danger. He could only hope and pray that she would be allowed to enjoy it for a full lifetime. He swore that he would always be with her, watching her back, doing his best to keep her safe.

He watched as Magnus finished the portal, its otherworldly glow now the height of normality to him, though he didn’t think familiarity would ever detract from the sense of awe Magnus’s magic inspired.

He watched Jace and Clary step through first, followed by Isabelle, her head held high, until it was only himself and Magnus left. Magnus raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward the portal.

Alec hovered for a second, wanting to say something…to thank him? He didn’t know. He settled with a small smile, rushing forward to follow his sister, not waiting to see if it was reciprocated. His heart was racing all of a sudden.

The sky was a little brighter where they emerged from the portal, the top of the sun visible, peeking out above the horizon.

Alec jolted in surprise as he beheld the city before them, its glorious glass towers rising into the clouds.

Alicante.

Magnus appeared right beside him, the portal blinking out of existence as he brushed himself down.

Alec swallowed, trying to take a discreet step away as he realised how close they were.

He turned to face him, the question in his wide eyes.

Magnus grimaced apologetically.

“Oh yes. Camille’s clan was once the resident clan of your dear city.” He explained. “After the war they moved out, but she didn’t go too far. She enjoys certain… _fineries_ …it has to offer far too much.”

They were a considerable distance away from the city, Alec noted, once he’d gotten over his initial shock as seeing his home. A good few miles, and the opposite side to the path they’d taken when they’d left. They were closer to the poorer districts, he thought, not that he’d ever been there. Their parents had preferred that they keep to the safety of the Palace and surrounding manor houses, the tops of which he could see in the far distance, set into the hill that overlooked the sprawling city. He could see why the vampires had chosen to live further from the Palace, though he shivered at the implication in Magnus’s tone. It was clear he didn’t hold Vampires – or at least, this group of Vampires – in particularly high regard.

“So where are they?” Jace asked, frowning.

He had a point. They were standing by the side of a dusty road, one that merchants and vendors used to access the Alicante markets. The only buildings in sight for miles around were a few dilapidated old huts, and it looked as though no-one had set foot in those for decades.

But then again, perhaps not, he thought, as Magnus pointed to the nearest one.

It looked like an abandoned stables, the smell of livestock faintly drifting through the air. But the doors were boarded up and the paint flaking.

“Vampires live here.” Izzy stated, disbelievingly. She folded her arms, appraising the building with distaste. “My horse wouldn’t live here.”

Magnus cracked a faint smile.

“They are good at hiding their tracks. And of course, if the occasional traveller thinks it is in disuse, and decides to rest for the night…”

Alec’s eyes widened and he caught Jace’s disgusted expression.

“Right.” Jace said, pulling his sword free and swinging it experimentally. “Let’s go kick some blood-drinking-ass.”

“Hold on.” Magnus’s tone was serious. “You should be prepared. You might think them repellent animals, but believe me, they do not look like that. They can be very…charming.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “No matter how hot some vampire chick might be, I think I can refrain from jumping into her bed. I’d much rather see her dead body than her naked body.”

“They’re already dead Jace, you can see both at once.” Izzy drawled with a smirk.

“Shut up.” Jace frowned.

Clary pursed her lips, having watched them silently.

“Look, can we get going please? If Simon is in there…I don’t want to leave him any longer.”

“Of course, biscuit.” Magnus swept forward, to the broken down doors. Then he looked to the side and waved a hand, causing a second door to open, one that they hadn’t noticed before. Its edges had melded into the wall to make it almost invisible, if one didn’t know what they were looking for.

It swung open with an ominous creak, revealing the top of a staircase that descended into a gloom blacker than the darkest night. Alec suppressed a shiver, and tightened his hold on his bow. He watched as Magnus, his siblings, then Clary descended down into the darkness, feeling a determined protectiveness settle over him. He be damned if they didn’t all make it out alive. With Simon.

 

.

 

It was empty.

Or at least, it appeared to be.

Magnus kept his hands out in front of him as he crept through the dark corridors the staircase had led to. If they were to be ambushed, he’d be ready. He could only hear one set of footsteps padding lightly behind him, but that didn’t worry him. Alec, Izzy and Jace may not be the Shadowhunters of old, but they had been trained. And they were runed.

The ground underneath the old barn seemed to have been hollowed out, and was certainly spacious. It was the perfect hiding place for a group of vampires.

Countless doors let off the corridor, but he ignored them. By the luminescent ball of light he’d conjured he could tell that they surroundings were growing increasingly more expensive. He knew that Camille would be found in the heart of the lair, and to find it all he had to do was follow the trail of grandeur. She might know just how manipulate him, but she was not unpredictable herself.

Still, the emptiness bothered him. It was daylight, if only just. All the vampires must be home, and he knew that Camille commanded a great number…but they were nowhere to be seen. Which meant that they must all be together…and expecting them.

They came to the end of the corridor, where a great set of ornate oak doors with burnished bronze handles stood, beckoning. Magnus hesitated.

“Magnus?” That was Alec’s voice, soft and concerned. He refrained from shooting him a small smile, gesturing a quick flick of his wrist.

The doors swung open noiselessly, revealing the room beyond.

It was huge and grand…everything Magnus had expected. The size of a small ballroom, great mirrors were set into the walls every couple of metres, reflecting the heavy scarlet drapes and glittering chandelier that hung from the low ceiling. Round tables were scattered around, each boasting jewels, money and weapons, too many to count. There were, indeed, numerous things to catch one’s eye, but none of them spared them more than a cursory glance.

“Simon!”

Clary’s cry echoed around the room and before Magnus could stop her she’d flown past him, racing to where her friend was hanging, rather unceremoniously, from the ceiling.

Well, hanging might be too strong a word.

His feet were on the floor, with his arms pulled above his head and tied together, the rope fixed to the ceiling above. He also appeared to be unconscious, if the way he was slumped forward was any indication. Still, he looked alive. Or at least, Magnus hoped. Why would they tie up a dead body? That would make no sense.

“Wait!” He called, taking a few hasty steps after Clary.

Apparently his warning went unheard however, because at that moment Jace shot forward, racing after her.

Magnus stopped and dropped his hand, sighing internally as Alec bolted after Jace, with Isabelle hot on his heels.

When they got to safety, he was going to sit them all down and gently explain why it was usually prudent to take caution when faced with danger, or more specifically, why one should refrain from yelling and racing into the heart of one’s enemy’s lair when one has just broken into said lair.

He wondered, not for the first time, how exactly he’d gotten himself into babysitting a bunch of wayward teenagers with a hero complex. After Will, Jem and Tessa, he’d thought he’d done his time. Gotten the badge. Clearly not. He wondered what would come first in his memoir;

_Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Idris_

Or

_Magnus Bane, Tired Babysitter of Reckless Shadowhunters_

Knowing his luck, the latter would be his destiny forever more.

Of course, he was proven right in his reticence when none of them made it even halfway to Simon.

Runed or not, Vampires were blessed with unholy power. They were faster, and quieter. Simple as that. It only took half a second, and each of them had been grabbed, arms pinned to their sides, wickedly sharp knives at their throats. Magnus could have laughed at their expressions of surprise, if he didn’t think them in danger, and if it weren’t for the slender figure that had materialised at the opposite end of the room, stroking Simon’s pale cheek and grinning far too devilishly for his liking.

He felt his heart begin to race as he looked at her…but where for so many years it had been for desire, now it was pure anger flowing through his veins. The warning was screaming inside his brain; _get out, get out, get out…_ but he couldn’t. He had a mundane to rescue, and Shadowhunters to keep alive. His fingers burned with the magic he wanted to let loose, but it was too much of a risk. At least a hundred more vampires stood in the shadows, all dressed in black, their fangs and the whites of their eyes gleaming. One wrong move and he would be swamped, and his companions’ throats’ slit. He noted all of this whilst keeping his eyes firmly on the woman in red.

“Magnus…” She purred, emphasising the _M_ and elongating the _S_.

He felt a chill creep up his spine at the sound of her voice. He’d once worshipped that voice, and everything it had said to him.

“What a pleasure. I don’t think you’ve seen my new lair…? Such a shame…perhaps I could give you a tour…?” Even from a distance he could see the seductive light in her eyes, the suggestive raise of her brow, the way her full, blood-red lips curled around every syllable…

“Magnus?” Isabelle’s voice cut through the fog descending upon his brain. “Do you know her?”

He shook himself, turning to meet her gaze, fierce and full of questions.

“Unfortunately, I do.” He said, strolling forward. He couldn’t help glancing at Alec, and at the tall, strong Vampire pressed up against him, glaring menacingly. A chill of a different kind shot through him, sharp and furious. He forced himself to walk on.

“We go way back.” He stopped a few metres from her, raising his head a little, standing tall.

“Isn’t that right…Camille?”

She smirked.

“The times we’ve shared, Magnus…glorious times. Why, we could have ruled the world together. And now it’s come to this – breaking into my property to rescue a little boy…a _mundane_ …how the mighty have fallen.”

“And _that_ , dear Camille, is exactly why we could _not_ have ruled the world together. You see, mortals are not our playthings. I never agreed with your views on…certain things.”

She laughed then, a high-pitched delighted sound that echoed through the room.

“But that didn’t stop you from coming back to me, did it?” She winked. “Every…single…time.” She purred the last word, leaning into Simon, licked his cheek obscenely.

“Let him go!” An angry shout came from Clary’s direction, followed by a yelp as the knife was pressed further into her neck.

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” Jace snarled.

“Jace, shut up.” Alec retorted, calmly.

Magnus shot him a grateful look, but he was staring stonily ahead.

He brushed it off and turned back to Camille.

“Well, we all make mistakes.” His voice was cool. “Now, what will it take for you to release the boy? He is of no consequence to you.”

She drew back from Simon, slinking up to where Magnus stood.

“Oh but you’re wrong, my beautiful Warlock.” She leaned in to him, exposing more of her bosom than was already shown by her plunging neckline.

“You see, he is precious to the Shadowhunters. And the Shadowhunters have taken something precious to me. So I took something precious of theirs. Until I get it back, the boy stays with me.”

She batted her eyelashes, but Magnus wasn’t fooled. He wasn’t sure how he ever had been.

He frowned.

“What did the Shadowhunters take from you?”

She grinned, her fangs ruining the expression.

“You mean you don’t already know? Why why, Magnus. I would have assumed, since you are currently bedding one of them, that they would have informed you of their exploits?”

Magnus went stock still, unable to stop the flush that graced his cheeks. It wasn’t true, he knew it wasn’t…but he also knew that he might _want_ it to be true, that it would _never_ be true, and that his companions might take Camille’s suggestions to heart.

She laughed again, but this time was interrupted by a door opening behind her, identical to the one through which they had entered.

Magnus could have cried with relief.

“ _Raphael_.”

He looked the same as always, too prim and too stern for the frozen-in-time fifteen year old body he inhabited, the perpetual frown marring his youthfully beautiful face.

“Magnus.”

He took stock of the situation, glancing from where Simon was hanging to where the four Shadowhunters were being held by Camille’s guard. His frown deepened.

“What’s going on here?”

“Oh Raphael.” Camille sighed, long-suffering. “You can never see the fun in anything.” She crossed her arms, pouting as he glared at her, before turning back to Magnus.

He quickly answered before she could cause any more trouble.

“Your most gracious and benevolent leader,” he said, with as much sarcastic condescension as he could manage. “Has decided to start a war with the Shadowhunters by kidnapping this boy.”

“I thought we were already at war with the Shadowhunters.” Raphael replied, calmly. Magnus wanted to cry. He just wanted to be back at home, alone, and not have to deal with any of these twisted politics that seemed to spread from Camille around like a disease. She thrived on it. He deplored it.

“We are _all_ ” he emphasised. “At war with _Valentine_. So you should release the boy and we can get on our way, back to focusing on _him_ rather than quarrelling between ourselves.”

“Hmm…” Camille cocked her head, tapping her jaw in mock consideration. “I think…not. I’m rather enjoying having you near me again, Magnus…” she dropped him a wink and he closed his eyes momentarily, praying for the strength to deal with her.

“Camille.” Raphael’s tone was stern. “Release the boy. This is ridiculous. It was Valentine who took Lily, you know that. These…” he glanced at Magnus’s companions. “ _children_ clearly have nothing to do with it.”

“Wait…Lily?” Magnus was confused. “Valentine took one of yours?”

The name wasn’t familiar to him, she must be a relatively new member of the clan.

Raphael inclined his head.

“He stole one of the werewolf children as well. They’ve been all up in arms, a nightmare to deal with…” He rolled his eyes.

Magnus exhaled audibly. This explained so much…though admittedly, also raised more questions. That must have been why the Werewolves attacked, but what Valentine might be doing with Downworlder children, he didn’t want to know.

“Has he tried to take more?” He asked.

“No, just one of each breed.” He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t know anything about this?”

“No. Why would I?”

Raphael hesitated, while Camille’s lips stretched into a wide grin.

“You mean Magnus Bane…” she purred. “The High Warlock Magnus Bane, the all-seeing and all-knowing Magnus Bane…didn’t know that a Warlock child has also been taken?”

His heart skipped a beat, his mouth suddenly dry.

_What._

If someone had been threatening his race…she was right, he should have known about it. But he had been rather busy with the Shadowhunters as of late. A sickening sense of shame trickled into his veins, spreading its poison around his body. He should have been there…he should have stopped it…it was another blow, just like failing to be there for Tessa, and for Jocelyn.

“Of course I knew.” The lie tasted foul on his tongue, and he saw that she didn’t buy it for a second, if the way her grin widened was any indication.

“I just had no idea about the vampire child, or the werewolf one. I do not concern myself with their politics.”

“But you have no problem entwining yourself with the Shadowhunters’ affairs?”

She tsked, shaking her head and moving toward them slowly, her hips swaying seductively.

“Which one is it, Magnus? This rather delectable blonde…? No…” She moved on from Jace quickly, surpassing Clary as well.

“Dark hair was always your undoing…and my, my, don’t these two wear it well…is it you, darling?”

She stroked a finger down Isabelle’s jaw, laughing as she bared her teeth.

“Well isn’t she a feisty one…but a little young for you, isn’t she Magnus? Or could it be…”

She glanced toward Alec, whose pale cheeks had blanched of all colour, the fury in his eyes starkly evident.

“If you are all done with your games, Camille.” Magnus interrupted icily. “Can we get on with it?”

“Oh Magnus,” her eyes sparkled. “You used to enjoy my foreplay so much…”

“And yet,” he replied, his voice flat. “Now I desire nothing more than to never be graced with your presence again.”

She opened her mouth to say something else, but Raphael exhaled noisily behind them.

“If you’re both finished.” He sounded bored. “I’d like to get some sleep. It’s daytime.”

Camille drew herself up, stalking back to where Simon hung.

“Very well. I will release the boy, if you promise to return Lily to us. She followed orders without question, and I grow tired of Raphael’s challenges.”

They exchanged glares.

“Done.” Magnus said quickly, but she laughed, holding up a finger.

“I will release the boy to you…for a kiss.”

She took a step toward him and tapped a long, blood-red nail to her shining, blood-red lips.

Magnus felt sick.

“Excuse me?”

“You want your plaything back?” She smirked. “Kiss me.”

He was silent, all words having escaped him. The thought of pressing his mouth to hers, though once upon a time it had been all he desired in the world, made him want to throw up.

She took another step toward him.

“Kiss me, Magnus Bane.”

“You don’t have to, Magnus.”

Izzy’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and biting.

“None of us would blame you for not giving that bitch what she wants.”

Camille’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Careful, my pretty one. Or…” She drew a nail across her throat, the unspoken threat clear.

“Don’t speak to my sister like that.” Alec shot back. “Or Magnus.” He sounded angrier than Magnus had ever heard him. Unfortunately, his words did not have the desired effect.

Camille’s grin widened once more, as she flicked her gaze between the two of them.

“So it is the Princeling…” she mused. “Oh, Magnus. Don’t you know that he’ll never choose you…he’ll never be able to, not like I could-”

“Stop.” Magnus was seething. He didn’t think it was possible to hate another person so thoroughly.

“One kiss. Then we can all go?”

Her eyes sparkled.

“I promise.”

He swallowed, readying himself. He tried to ignore the eyes on his back, tried to ignore the hatred pulsing through his veins. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward.

She met him halfway, her lips sliding wetly over his. He’d always deplored her lipstick, just endured it. He tried to pull back but she grasped him to her, holding his head into place. He placed his hands on her shoulders, gripping tightly, and pushed her away from him. Her look of displeasure was evident to see as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, shuddering visibly.

He stepped around her, purposefully keeping his back to his companions. Raphael produced a shining silver knife and sliced through the rope holding Simon up, catching him deftly before handing him over to Magnus. He looked almost amused at the turn things had taken, the closest thing to a smile Magnus had ever seen him wear. He motioned to the guards and they released the Shadowhunters. Clary immediately ran to them, throwing herself at Simon. Jace didn’t look too pleased as she stroked the hair back from his face and kissed his forehead, but he moved to take over from Magnus, slinging one of Simon’s arms around his shoulder.

Magnus stepped back as Alec did the same, so that the boy was supported between the two of them. He kept his eyes on the ground, studiously ignoring their gazes.

“When will he wake up?” Clary demanded, crossing her arms at Camille.

The ghost of a smile twitched at Magnus’s lips as he watched the tiny red-headed girl glare daggers at the tall, powerful Vampire leader.

“He will wake soon.” Camille was curt; she sounded almost petulant.

“Very well. We will leave you now.” Magnus dusted himself off. “I’d say it was a pleasure, but quite frankly, if I never see any of you again it will be too soon. Not you, Raphael. Stop by sometime, ok?”

He waved a hand in his direction, ignoring Camille completely. His heart was still hammering, the bitter taste of her still on his lips. He wanted to scrub them off.

He swept off, not sparing her a glance, his head held high.

Soon enough they were all outside once again, the sun now high overhead, though partially obscured by a layer of grey cloud. They didn’t speak while Magnus created a portal, all exhausted from their long night.

Magnus watched the back of Alec’s head as it disappeared, and wondered if Camille had killed the possibility of anything between them before it had even started.

Then he chastised himself.

There was never any chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for that kiss!!! It had to happen. Well, no it didn't...but it will make sense in the long run. I just wanted to throw a spanner in the works of Malec's flirtation ;) Next up...The Seelie Court! More drama. More intrigue. More Malec ;)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the Seelie Court, and some unexpected developments...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So University has started back, but I am still finding time to write so yay! I think roughly a chapter every two weeks is doable :)

It had been high noon when they’d finally laid down to sleep.

Alec and Jace curled up on the soft sofas in Magnus’s living room; since Simon had yet to regain consciousness they’d relinquished their bed, and Alec had quickly refused Magnus’s offer to take his room. He’d shuddered internally at the thought of sleeping in Magnus’s bed…no, that was unthinkable. And besides, the sofas were soft and large enough so that they were able to stretch out leisurely. However, he couldn’t sleep.

The curtains had been drawn, leaving the open space that was the ground floor of the cottage dim and musty, but little beams of golden sunlight escaped, dancing across the floor in dappled patterns. His eyes followed them restlessly and while Jace snored softly across the room, his mind raced. The past thirty-six hours had been eventful, to say the least. Clary’s arrival had certainly thrown a spanner into the works, but, as fate would have it, she had ended up leading them to some important information. What did Valentine need with Downworlder children? The obvious answer would be that he intended to torture and kill them. But in that case, wouldn’t he capture as many as he could? The information suggested that he had only sought out one of each species – and young, defenceless ones at that. He was not well-versed in magic, but it had seemed like the beginnings of a rather dark spell. The drawn, worried expression that had settled onto Magnus’s features had confirmed as much.

Magnus…

Alec was loath to admit it, but he was another factor contributing toward his current insomnia.

He hadn’t really had time in the past few days to stop and contemplate what he felt toward the Warlock…and though he tried to focus now, he still had no idea. He was attractive, that much was obvious. And flirtatious…though it wasn’t directed only at him. Nothing could happen, nothing would happen…he knew that. Even if Magnus did have more-than-platonic feelings toward him – and Alec wasn’t so vain as to think he _did_ – he was a Prince. And though many might envy him for that title, it translated roughly into being a person unable to follow his own heart, even if he was able to decipher what it was telling him.

He glanced over to where Jace was curled up under a blanket, his features soft in sleep, his chest slowly rising and falling. A familiar pang spread through his stomach. Unrequited love was a curse. And confusing. He had hated Clary for many reasons, when they’d first met her, but he could admit to himself that the main one was Jace’s immediate and obvious attraction to her. But while before he would have expected to stew for months, he no longer resented her for that reason. He didn’t _like_ her, not necessarily. That would still take some time. But he didn’t think he was jealous, not anymore. But was that because he had simply accepted – at last – the futility of his feelings for his adopted brother? Or was it because his heart had found a new muse…? He had been in love with Jace for years. That had simply been a fact of his existence. Yet, over the past few days he realised that Jace had not been the only one occupying his thoughts. He was in love with Jace. Yet the sight of Magnus kissing the repulsive Vampire leader had sent a fire rushing through his veins…a burning rush of pure anger and a strange twisting in his stomach. Magnus could kiss whomever he wanted. Why should he care? And he clearly hadn’t wanted to kiss Camille, he had been forced into it. So why couldn’t he look him in the eyes afterward?

He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to purge his mind of such thoughts. Why had he been destined for this…this confusion? It was too much. He didn’t want anything more to do with romance…ever. He didn’t even want to think about his fiancée waiting back at the Palace, a girl with whom his sister had been involved, and with whom he would have to break things off, without explaining why to his parents. It wouldn’t make a difference to him though. His father would find another girl and he would spend his life trying to distract himself from his own heart.

Or perhaps the war would kill them all.

He wasn’t quite sure which sounded worse.

He eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep, managing to rest for a few hours. The room was darker when a creak on the staircase woke him; it seemed that dusk had fallen.

He blinked, a flash of red hair catching his attention.

“I’m sorry,” Clary whispered, freezing on the bottom step as he struggled up onto his elbows, squinting blearily through the darkness.

“I couldn’t sleep any longer…I didn’t want to wake Isabelle…”

“It’s ok.” Alec yawned, sitting up. “I don’t want to sleep anymore anyway.”

It was true - his dreams had been fraught with disturbing images, a laughing maniac wielding the mortal sword, his sister bound with her own whip and a dark-skinned, dark-haired figure diving in front of him as the sword cut its way toward him. His dream self had cried out even as he’d known it would be too late…

He wiped his clammy forehead, shaking off the remnants of fear that had coursed through his body. It wasn’t real.

“Oh, ok.” Clary paused, glancing at Jace. Her eyes softened for a moment then she shook herself, padding further into the room. “Do you want to maybe find some breakfast? Or dinner, I guess.” She gave him a small smile.

“Sure.” He nodded, pushing the blanket away and stretching out. He followed her into the kitchen, closing the door behind them and switching on the light.

He relaxed immediately, the familiarity of the bright, warm kitchen calming his nerves.

“Do you want some tea?” He asked, moving over to the kettle.

“That sounds good.”

 

.

 

Magnus yawned, stretching his long limbs and luxuriating in the feel of the soft, satiny sheets against his skin.

Despite the comfort, however, he felt restless. He hadn’t slept as long as he’d needed to, and fatigue still clung to his body. It was no use trying to get back to sleep though. There was too much on his mind.

His skin was still crawling from his encounter with Camille…the ghost of her lips upon his, the echo of her laughter ringing in his ears.

How had she known, still, after all this time, exactly how to get under his skin? He shivered unpleasantly as he recalled how she’d taunted Alec. Alec, who had done nothing wrong, who was innocent even of the actions she’d accused him of, of the relationship between them that she’d insinuated. He felt a burning anger even now, of her mockery, of the way she’d managed to poison Magnus’s intangible hopes of closeness to the Shadowhunter Prince. It was a doomed hope anyway, but he felt a little better blaming its death on Camille. She would never be an innocent party.

He rose out of the bed, moving to dress for the day ahead. He sighed as he contemplated how much there was to do. How he was going to rescue those Downworlder children, he had no idea…if indeed, there were any children still alive to rescue. He’d given it a lot of thought earlier, what sort of dark spell Valentine might with to cast, and none of the possibilities had been in the slight bit comforting. Even if it were a lost cause, he must try. That was all you could do in life, he supposed. Persevere.

He teased his hair into carefully gelled spikes and carefully outlined his eyes in kohl and green glitter. If he were to face hell, he could at least look good doing it.

It was pitch dark outside by the time he made his way downstairs, encountering Isabelle leaving his spare room. She looked as bright and fresh as a daisy, and he couldn’t help his small grin as she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. If nothing else good came out of the situation he’d found himself in, at least he’d made a friend of Isabelle Lightwood. Her Highness, Isabelle Lightwood. It paid to have friends in high places, his long life had taught him that much.

Everyone else was already awake, they found, when they entered the kitchen. Jace looked well rested, but Magnus noticed faint dark circles under the eyes of both Alec and Clary. Even Simon had risen, he saw, and was looking no worse for wear other than a slight pallor to his tan skin.

“Well,” He clapped his hands together. “How about a spot of nourishment?”

His heart jumped as Alec immediately rose to help him, though he continued to avoid his gaze.

A little while later, once they had all eaten their fill – Isabelle had graciously offered to cook, and Magnus was about to accept when both Alec had Jace had shot her down most vehemently. “You’d rather starve Magnus, trust me.” Jace had winked, then ducked as she’d thrown a fork at him – it was time to get down to business.

“So.” Magnus said, loathe to ruin the gentle peace that had fallen over them, curtesy of the food and rest, but very aware of more pressing matters.

“I need to pay a visit to the Seelies.”

Alec recoiled. “Why?” He asked, bluntly. The shadow of a frown marred Jace’s forehead, and Magnus smiled slightly at the memory of his first encounter with the fair-folk.

“Because,” he replied. “If our information is correct, Valentine had not yet managed to steal a Seelie child. If he is planning to enact the spell that I think he is, then he needs one to complete it. And I would rather that not happen.”

“What spell is it?” Isabelle asking, interestedly.

Magnus paused, looking round at them. “I would prefer not to say right now,” he said after a few moments. “I am not certain…and it is vile. I don’t want to worry you.”

“We’re not children, Magnus.” Jace huffed, folding his arms childishly.

Magnus suppressed a grin.

“Be that as it may, I would still prefer not to speak of such dark magic. Let us hope that I am wrong.”

“Ok, so we go to the Seelies. Then what?” Alec asked.

Magnus baulked.

“Oh, no. Not we. _I_. I go to the Seelies. You all stay here, within my protection wards.”

Alec opened his mouth, looking annoyed, but Izzy beat him to it.

“Magnus, we are not letting you go alone. Either we all go, or none of us go.” Her tone was firm, and a surge of affection flowed over him.

“Simon cannot go.” He said, repressing a smile. “No mundane can enter the Seelie court.”

“Okay, one question.” Simon piped up. He looked small, in a loose shirt he’d borrowed from Jace, huddled next to Clary. “What’s a Seelie?”

“A fairy.” Clary told him. “Right?”

“Right.” Jace leaned forward. “Except not the ones from your little mundane storybooks. They’re tall – taller than us – with magic that can kill you in a heartbeat and weapons so sharp you won’t even feel them until you’re bleeding out.”

“Right.” Simon whispered, looking green.

“Jace.” Izzy chastised. “Don’t frighten him. Magnus’s magic can kill you too, and he’s not a threat to us.”

Simon shot a glance at Magnus, and looked away again even quicker. He looked terrified.

“I’m okay staying here.” He squeaked.

“Well we can’t leave him alone.” Clary looked upset.

“You should stay with him, biscuit.” Magnus grimaced, holding up a hand as she tried to protest. “The Seelie Queen is…difficult. Difficult and very, very clever. I am not walking into her realm with Valentine’s daughter, asking for her help in a war against Valentine. I doubt she would be very understanding.”

“I’m not leaving you both alone here.” Jace frowned, clenching his jaw. “You don’t know how to protect yourselves.”

“Well, my wards will do that.” Magnus looked put out. “But…that is my point. _I_ will go and speak with the Seelie Queen, and you all can stay here.”

“No.” Alec spoke up again, this time looking straight at Magnus. He fought not to show how his heart beat faster as their gazes locked, clear blue into green. “Jace, you can stay with Clary and Simon.” Still, he looked at Magnus. “Izzy and I will go with you.”

Magnus held the gaze a little longer, then sighed. His expression was immoveable. There was no chance of him backing down, he knew.

“Very well. But before we go, a little on etiquette in the Seelie Court…”

 

.

 

It was a full moon that night and everything was bathed in its soft, reflected light. The shadows seemed longer and everything had a faint, mystical glow.

It was magical.

The fact that they were heading into the forest to travel to an alternate dimension to speak with a fairy queen? Even more magical.

Alec wondered what he would have thought of this prospect a few weeks ago.

The Seelies had always been the most reclusive of Downworlders, though according to history books, they once were rather intimately entwined into Shadowhunter affairs. He knew that they still interacted with mortals, vampires, werewolves…and warlocks, since Magnus had mentioned that he often did business with them. He wondered why – and how – the divide had occurred. Whilst it had once been a simple fact of existence, something he had been taught and he easily accepted, he now felt a growing sense of unease. Why was it the Shadowhunters who ruled over all other creatures? Why did they think they were better? Why did other species hate them? Sure, Alec had met some disagreeable Downworlders – Camille for one, came to mind – but the majority were nothing but agreeable. Raphael, Catarina, Dot…Magnus.

He shook those deep thoughts from his mind as they reached the edge of the forest. Magnus’s cottage was a mere speck in the distance, a dark silhouette with a few glowing squares to indicate which rooms were illuminated.

Magnus and Izzy were ahead of him, and deep in conversation. He paused a little ways from them, struck suddenly by the sight of Magnus bathed in the abnormally strong moonlight. He cut a severe shape tonight, dressed in dark greens and black. Alec supposed he’d blend into the foliage once they were in the forest. It was a stark change from his usual bright colours, but somehow, he seemed to stand out more than ever. Alec narrowed his eyes, trying to discern the difference. Was it that the strong military-like collar on his tunic brought his jaw into sharp relief? Was it the way the fabric clung to his body instead of flowing, shaping itself around his lean muscles? He didn’t know, but he did know that he looked good. Really good. He swallowed as Magnus turned to him, raising an eyebrow at the intentness of his gaze.

Alec swallowed and flushed, dragging his eyes away. Izzy had her hand on her hip, and was looking as though she was supressing a laugh, her lips pressed together and mirth dancing in her eyes. He shot her a glare, receiving a wink in reply.

“What are we waiting for?” He asked, trying to ignore the unspoken communications.

“Oh, nothing.” Magnus grinned widely. “We were just discussing our mutual appreciation for all things leather.” He motioned to Izzy’s outfit, which was comprised of tightly fitted leather pants, leather boots with a ridiculously unsuitable – for the forest, at least – thin heel, a scrap of cloth that Alec couldn’t justify calling a shirt and a leather jacket slung over her shoulders. She looked wickedly dangerous, especially with the gleaming whip curled around her wrist and a pair of identical blades rising above her shoulders from where they rested in a cross-holster strapped to her back.

He sighed internally, biting back a scathing retort that came from the big brother instincts she’d been testing since the day she’d been born.

“Of course, I am also partial to a little leather on you, Alexander.” Magnus’s voice drew his attention, and his flush deepened as he looked down to see that he also was wearing his leather jacket.

“Right.” He mumbled, unable to think of a smart reply.

Magnus chuckled but thankfully did not comment further.

They plunged into the forest, the outside world disappearing they lost sight of the moon. Their new sky was dense; a thick canopy of rustling leaves, the only sound that permeated the thick silence that encompassed them, save for the occasional hooting of an owl or snapping of a twig underfoot.

Alec brought up the rear and could make out only the vague shapes of Magnus and Izzy ahead of him. Izzy, to her credit, seemed to be handing the forest floor just fine in her heels. At least, she wasn’t complaining.

They had been walking for about an hour – though without the sky as a point of reference, Alec really had no idea – when Magnus stopped. Alec almost crashed into him, saving himself by throwing his weight to the side to grab onto Izzy instead. Her glare was a mixture of irritation and amusement as they stumbled, before finding their footing again. He was grateful for the cover of darkness.

“Have we arrived?” He asked, choosing not to look in Magnus’s direction.

“Almost.” Magnus indicated to his left.

Alec had been too busy trying not to fall into the mud to notice that they had come to a clearing. The trees had shaped themselves – for it seemed much too natural to be of intended design – around a small, circular pool. The water was oily black save for a shimmering white orb in the centre – which Alec realised, after glancing up to where the canopy opened up to the skies, was a reflection of the moon.

It was beautiful, mystical, serene. But it didn’t look like the doorway to another realm.

Izzy, however, didn’t seem to agree.

“Oh!” She gasped. “I’ve read about this! The full-moon pool…”

“What about it?” Alec was confused.

“It only reflects the moon when it is full.” She explained, her eyes shining. “It only works as a door when you can see the moon. Legends say that unsuspecting mortals used to fall into Seelie, and that many stories – what they call ‘fairytales’ – are actually retellings of their adventures there.”

She turned to Magnus then, her brow furrowed.

“But you said that mortals can’t enter the realm?”

He winced, shrugging apologetically.

“They can enter, I told a little white lie. But the magic would have affected Simon in a way none of us will be susceptible to. It would make him hallucinate, dream and most likely find a way to entrap him there forever. It was too big of a risk. But I didn’t want to frighten him further.”

Alec stomach flipped and he ignored it, staring resolutely at the pool.

“So how do we get in?” He asked, bluntly.

Magnus moved to the edge, the water lapping onto the tips of his feet.

“We swim.”

He answered, striding forward.

Alec gaped as he waded into the centre of the pool, the black water swallowing him inch by inch until her reached the moon’s reflection. Then he took a breath, ducked his head under water, and…nothing.

Not even a ripple.

“Magnus?” Izzy called.

When there was no answer she strode forward also, turning back to wink at Alec before imitating him and dipping below the surface.

She too disappeared.

Wading into a freezing cold pool at midnight in the middle of a forest wasn’t exactly at the top of Alec’s to-do list, but his brotherly instincts kicked in. He wouldn’t chicken out and leave Izzy to navigate the Seelie realm without him, just because he didn’t want to get cold.

He took a deep breath, and plunged in.

It wasn’t just cold.

It was _ice-cold_.

He gasped, his muscles screaming in protest as he forced himself forward, unable to suppress violent shivers. How had Izzy and Magnus made it look so comfortable?

He didn’t gracefully sink beneath the surface like the two of them had. He threw himself at the rippling moon in the centre, desperate to get through the stupid door and out of the pool.

For a second after his head was underwater, nothing happened…and he wondered whether he’d have to trek back through the forest in freezing cold, dripping wet clothing…but then he fell.

It was strange, the sensation. It wasn’t like falling through air, or water…more like travelling through a portal, just one that was incredibly dark and cold.

Then he hit the ground.

“Nice of you to join us, Alexander.”

He pushed himself up, bruised and shivering, blinking at his new surroundings.

He seemed to be in an underground cave, one that was lit with medieval looking sconces on the wall and carpeted with green leaves and wildflowers. He looked around for the source of the voice, blanching as his eyes found Izzy and Magnus…standing at spear-point of a very angry looking Guard.

“What -” He began, then broke off as another Fae hauled him up.

“As I was just explaining to these delightful beings,” Magnus managed to sound suave even in the midst of being apprehended, “We have come to see the Queen.”

“And as we have explained to you.” The Guard replied, in a threatening tone. “You need to have an appointment.”

Magnus rolled his eyes.

“Look. Just tell her that Magnus Bane needs to talk to her. That it is of utmost importance, regarding Valentine.”

The Guard looked uncertain for a moment, then lifted his spear.

“Very well.” He motioned to the others to follow him. “Do not move from this chamber. We will know.”

“I don’t doubt that you will!” Magnus called after them.

He turned back, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Well. That was most exciting.”

Alec shivered violently, and Magnus immediately looked worried.

“Oh I am sorry…” He waved his hand and Alec felt his clothes drying out, the icy droplets evaporating from his skin.

“Thank you.” He said, relieved. He noticed that Izzy and Magnus were already dry. He also noticed that Magnus’s eyes seemed to gleam in the light of the candles, even more than usual. He looked away, casting his gaze instead around the dim, dank cave.

“So. This is the Seelie realm. Charming.”

Magnus laughed, a musical sound.

“Don’t judge it too soon, Alec. There are many hidden wonders. This is a mere antechamber.”

They didn’t have to wait too long for the Guard to return, and when he did, it was with a blank expression and a silent summons.

Their surroundings did indeed improve as they walked, herded by the armed Fae, the stone walls morphing to earth, then to vines and finally opening out into a huge chamber.

And really, it was huge.

It made the throne room in the Palace look like a broom closet.

It was open to the stars, or at least appeared to be, though it was twilight here and that much time most definitely had not passed.

“It’s a glamour.” Magnus whispered to Alec, noticing his bemused expression. “Eternal twilight…the Fae believe it to be the most romantic hour.”

Alec flushed slightly, nodding as he took in their surroundings.

The walls glistened, and trees and vines grew out of them. Nature was everywhere, he saw, from the bed of flowers carpeting the floor, to the stars twinkling overhead, to the living garments that the Fair-Folk had adorned themselves with.

His eyes widened as he examined the beings interspersed throughout the hall, talking, laughing, dancing with each other and alone. Some were more humanoid in appearance, like the Guards they’d met thus far. But some were distinctly more…animal-like? Feral-looking? They passed a girl with delicate antlers growing out of her head, a young boy with skin as green as grass and a man with the lower body of a goat. Alec tried not to stare too much. The Fae were proud people, he knew that much.

But he couldn’t help the widening of his eyes as they reached the far end of the hall.

The Queen was perched on a throne of what looked like spun, shimmering spider-silk, as clear as glass and sharp as crystal. But it wasn’t the throne that held his attention. Although she was one of the Fae who were more human in appearance, she looked more feral and alien than all of them put together.

Her hair was a blood-red sheet of scarlet, sweeping the floor around her. Her skin was snow white, an unblemished expanse of porcelain. Alec knew that he was pale, but she had him beat by several shades. It was…pretty, he supposed, but also eerie. He’d never seen a living person with skin that pale. And her eyes…in a stark contrast to her skin, they were coal black orbs, a colour that seemed to refuse to reflect light. Alec repressed a shudder as they alighted onto him, cold and impassive. He barely noted her full, blood-red lips and her gown of royal blue silk that was so sheer she may as well have been naked. He couldn’t draw his gaze from her eyes.

It was Magnus who spoke first, breaking the silence.

“My Queen.” He stepped forward and bowed respectfully, Alec and Isabelle hastening to do the same. “Time bestows upon you more beauty than us mere mortals could ever imagine. Standing before you is a blessing that I – ”

“That will do, Magnus Bane.” She interrupted him, her voice cutting through the air like a razor blade, high and cold. She sounded amused. “But instead of waxing your adoration, perhaps you could explain to me why you have brought two Shadowhunters into my realm? And without warning?”

Her gaze alighted back onto Alec, cold and assessing.

“There have been attacks on the Downworld.” Magnus said, cutting straight to it. He knew when the Seelie Queen meant business. “A child of each species has been taken – a vampire, a werewolf and a warlock. We have reason to believe that a Seelie child will be next. We come to warn you.”

“Valentine.” It was a statement, not a question, but Magnus nodded all the same.

“And what do the Shadowhunters have to do with this?”

“We are ready to fight.” Isabelle spoke, her voice clear and confident, chin held high. Alec felt the strangest mix of pride and fear for her, in her bravery and the sharp way the Queen looked at her, almost as though she were her prey.

“Is that so?” She asked, her voice silky. “You would turn on your own?”

Isabelle frowned. “It happened before. My father imprisoned him. He will come after us once he has exterminated all of you – we must work together.”

The Queen laughed.

“Such idealism, such bravery from one so young and so…sweet.” She narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth lifting infinitesimally. Izzy stared back defiantly, until a wide grin lit the Queen’s face, her white teeth gleaming.

“And you, my young, pretty Prince?” She shifted her focus back onto Alec. “Do you believe you can unite our world against this common threat, when you cannot even unite your own heart with your own mind?”

She grinned again as he froze, unable to suppress his audible exhale of surprise.

“I know, I know…” She tilted her head sympathetically. “It seems as though the fate of the world rests upon your personal desires…everything so bright, so harsh, so _painful_ in the sweet brevity of youthful mortality. But with the end of the world actually nigh…will you find a way to find yourself, young Prince? Or will you die unfulfilled?

“Enough.” Magnus’s voice was sharp, cutting through the vocal assault that had chilled Alec to the bone.

_How had she known?_ Was she right? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to either of those.

“We came to warn you, not to seek out a cheap fortune.”

Alec chanced a glance in his direction; he looked angry. More than angry, furious. It only served to confuse him further, adding to the swirling mass of emotions he pushed deep into himself, an endless void he kept under control by a sheer force of will.

“And you?” She ignored him, apparently unperturbed. “What do you desire, Magnus Bane?”

“What I desire,” he replied, frostily. “Is a legion of Seelie Knights to join our force to rescue those Downworlder children. It is in your best interest to comply.”

She sat back, her head cocked, seemingly considering his request.

“I will grant you this, Magnus Bane.”

He exhaled, visibly relaxing, some of the tension leaving him.

“Four of my best knights will report at your door when you leave for this mission.”

“Thank you. We – ”

“In return,” she interrupted him again. “The girl shall stay with me.”

There was a beat of silence during which Alec wondered if he’d misheard her. Then her gaze flicked toward Isabelle and a surge of anger and fear crashed over him.

“NO.” He snarled, taking a step toward his sister, who was looking surprised – caught off guard.

Magnus threw out an arm to hold him back, shooting him a worried glance. The Queen laughed, high and harmonious. It should have been a pleasant sound but it grated upon his ears, making the hairs on his arms stand out.

“The girl will stay with me…until my knights have returned from your mission, unharmed and victorious.”

Alec frowned.

“And if they get hurt? You can’t keep her here forever.”

She looked amused at his anger.

“Then you will have to make certain that is not the case.”

He opened his mouth to argue further, to deny her, to offer to stay instead, but Isabelle spoke up then.

“I accept.”

“Izzy – ”

“Alec, it’s not for long. You have to do this, you and Magnus. And Jace, and Clary, and you need those knights because you are going against Valentine. _Valentine_. Okay? I wish I could be with you but if these are her terms then we have to accept. Everything will be okay, I promise.”

She spoke fast and softly, gripping onto his arm. He felt tiny in her grasp, in the wide, trusting gaze of his brave little sister.

“But – ” he protested, weakly.

“But nothing.” She smiled ruefully, turning to Magnus. “Look after him for me, please. I need my brother back in one piece.”

“That I can promise to do.” He told her, but his eyes were on Alec, soft and dark, filled with things Alec could only begin to comprehend.

She let go of him now, walking a few steps forward to stand beside the Queen. It was only a few feet of distance, but Alec felt as though a void had opened up between them. He vowed to make it through, to close that distance and have her back beside him.

“Very well.” The Queen looked satisfied, her lips curled into a cold smile. “I suggest you leave now, Magnus Bane, and ready yourself for battle.”

He ignored her, his gaze fixed upon Izzy.

“And you, young Prince.” She addressed Alec once more. “Be careful. It may be sooner than you think, when you will have to choose.”

“Choose what?” He managed to choke, both intrigued and fearful. She might be a piece of work, but he believed in her power. Anyone would be a fool not to.

“Whether or not you want to be brave.”

She snapped her fingers then and two guards appeared, sheparding Alec and Magnus away from the throne. Away from the Queen, away from Izzy.

Alec’s head was spinning. They were leaving the Seelie Realm – without Izzy. They were going to fight Valentine. And the Queen…could she actually see into the future, or had she just been messing with him? Magnus’s lips were pressed into a tight line – he still looked angry.

Alec took a deep breath.

Time would tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting there with Malec, please bear with me ;) It takes a long time to get over a lifetime of ignoring your own heart, and Alec does have bigger things to deal with as well! But I do have the next few chapters outlined and I have to say, I am rather excited to write them ;) Next up - Mission Retrieve Hostages. And a few more characters pop up!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another battle commences...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I may have taken a month or 8 off... I didn't expect uni to get so intense! Anyway. It is finished now and I really want to complete this story. We're not even halfway through yet and I have some exciting stuff planned! This chapter was meant to be twice as long but I just wanted to post something to get the ball rolling again. Also, it ended up being much more than I expected so it made sense to split it, so as not to rush the story.

It was still dark by the time Alec and Magnus got back to the house; the sun had yet to rise. But it seemed peaceful, the little cottage in the fields, with a soft blanket of fog laying over the grass and the stars twinkling overhead.

It had been a silent walk, Alec too preoccupied with worrying over having left Izzy behind to be much company. Magnus didn’t seem to mind though; he appeared to be lost in his own thoughts. But it wasn’t awkward, and Alec was surprised by that. It was a comfortable, amiable silence. They were on the same side…they were friends. He hoped that meant the end of blushing around Magnus…now that they were well familiar with each other, there was no reason to feel nervous.

Despite the early hour, Jace, Clary and Simon were all still awake to welcome them home, thanks to their skewed sleeping schedule. Jace didn’t look happy when they explained Izzy’s absence, but he didn’t blame them, and Alec was immensely relieved for that. They all agreed that they should leave as soon as possible, so that Izzy could return to them. None of them wanted to sleep, but Magnus ordered a few hours’ rest. As eager as he was to get on with their mission, he knew it was smart. He didn’t expect to sleep, still keyed up from their adventure into the Seelie realm, but as soon as he lay down on his sofa he passed into unconsciousness.

It was midday by the time he blinked awake, the heavy fatigue of sleep still hanging over him.

“Tea?” A familiar, musical voice questioned.

He rubbed his eyes, pushing himself into a sitting position, finding Magnus standing in the middle of the living room, bathed in a pool of golden light that made him look like more of an angel than Alec had ever felt. His hair was hanging loose, and looked so soft – compared to the gelled spikes or quiffs he usually sported. He blinked again as he watched a smile light up his face, finally comprehending the question and the steaming mug held out to him.

“Oh – yes, thank you.”

He accepted the mug gratefully, its warmth making him shiver in comparison. He watched Magnus bite his lip, ignoring what that simple action did to his stomach. He was fine. He was still tired. Magnus smirked, as though he could read his thoughts, his eyes raking shamelessly up and down his body. Alec was marginally confused until a vague memory of having felt overheated while he slept flitted across his brain.

Oh.

His eyes darted around frantically but it didn’t take much effort to locate his shirt, which was lying in a crumpled heap upon the floor where he’d evidently thrown it at some point during his slumber.

He flushed scarlet and brought the mug to his bare chest, as though he could hide himself behind it.

Magnus threw his head back, laughing, appearing to thoroughly enjoy his mortification. He put the mug down hastily and grabbed for the shirt, pulling it on as fast as he could.

“Oh, Alexander.” He purred, much too sinfully for Alec’s liking. Or maybe he liked it a little _too_ much. “You don’t have to get dressed up for me. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I woke to be greeted with such an agreeable sight. I think you’ll have to stay here.”

He threw a wink in at the end, before executing a graceful pirouette and sweeping back into the kitchen, the tails of his silk dressing down fluttering behind him.

Alec cursed his frantic heartbeat, the ghost of Magnus’s gaze making his skin prickle. Evidently he had not yet transcended the tendency to blush around Magnus. He’d have to seriously work on that.

“Why does he never act like that when I’m bare-chested?” Jace complained, startling Alec so thoroughly that he slopped most of the still-steaming tea he’d just picked up again over himself.

“By the Angel!” He cursed, glaring at Jace, who looked perturbed. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“I’m sleeping in the same room as you, Alec.” Jace shot back, stretching and standing up. “If you want to flirt with him in private, you’re going to have to do it elsewhere.”

He was sure his cheeks had surpassed scarlet now. And he was certain he had surpassed the ability to form words. He settled for spluttering, until Jace started talking again.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice that he only brought _you_ tea, even though you were still asleep when he came over and I’ve been lying here awake for ages.”

Alec found his tongue. “Well why didn’t you go and make your own tea?” He deflected.

Jace frowned. “I didn’t want tea. It’s just nice to be thought of, is all.”

“When you have abs as nice as Alexander’s, blondie, you’ll be thought of!” Magnus called from the kitchen, making Alec start again. He really had to get used to this lack of privacy. He could most definitely, however, get used to Magnus’s taunting of Jace, who was standing with his mouth hung open in shocked indignation.

“What – I – I have abs!” He spluttered. “Loads of people have complimented me on my abs!”

Alec snickered, reaching over to fold his discarded blanket, grateful that his blush was finally fading. He was also grateful that the mention of Jace’s abs hadn’t made it worse. Though he could personally attest to having been one of those people who had complimented them – albeit silently.

“What’s all this yelling about Jace’s abs?” Clary bounced down the stairs, dragging a yawning Simon behind her.

“Clary!” He spun around, pointing at her. “You think I have nice abs, right?”

“Hmm…” she tilted her head to the side, her lips twisted in consideration as her green eyes sparkled. “They’re okay, I guess.”

“Okay!” Jace glared at her. “But better than Alec’s, right?” She just smirked at him, holding his gaze for just a second longer than Alec thought was necessary. Hmm. He’d have to watch them.

“Simon?” Jace crowded him next. “What do you think?”

“Oh…um…I…um…” His eyes darted nervously between Jace and Alec, as he pulled on the hem of his shirt self-consciously. “I don’t know. You’re both pretty badass.”

Jace seemed to consider this.

“Ok. It’s a tie.”

“I beg to differ.” Magnus cut in, from where he was leant against the kitchen door, watching with mirth in his eyes. He dropped Alec another wink, who somehow managed to contain his blush this time. There was nothing he could do about the swooping in his stomach though. It was the tiredness, he told himself again, as he busied himself with clearing their blankets and pillows away.

 

.

 

It had just gone noon and Alec wasn’t sure how prepared he felt, but it seemed that Magnus had been busy while they’d slept.

“I have sent messages to all I trust within the Downworld.” He was saying, leaning over the map of Idris that covered his entire kitchen table. His gaze swept intently over it, wise, alert and efficient. “There’s a few Warlock friends of mine – you remember Catarina – some Vampires loyal to Raphael over Camille,” Alec’s blood burned at the mere mention of her name. “And a wolf pack whose leader I have known for many years.”

Jace blanched at the last mention, but nodded. He shot a worried glance at Alec, and Magnus’s gaze softened as he caught it.

“Fear not. I trust him implicitly. Not all wolves are the same, just as not all humans are the same. Or Warlocks, Vampires, Seelies.”

“I know.” Alec said, hurriedly. He couldn’t blame Magnus for wanting to clarify, too many Shadowhunters were too quick to generalise and condemn when it came to Downworlders. That was one of the many things he hoped to accomplish with this quest. If they didn’t die first. “If you trust him, I trust him.”

He dipped his head, desperate to convey his sincerity. For some reason, it was important now more than ever that Magnus knew he was not like his kin. Magnus’s answering smile was soft and small, his shining eyes conveying the thanks he didn’t need to vocalise. He turned his gaze back on the map, his dark hair falling over his eyes in a manner that was far too distracting. Alec berated himself silently. This was not the time to lose focus.

“-been camping out in an abandoned mine somewhere around here.” Magnus was saying, his long fingers tracing a circle of peaks in the Northern mountains.

Not too far away from where the Spiral Labyrinth was, Alec realised. Or had been…he wasn’t sure if it was still standing or not. Surely even if they had managed to salvage the building, they would have to relocate now that their position had been compromised.

“I managed to track the location through a trinket that belonged to Lily – the fledgling Vampire whom Valentine kidnapped. However, he has taken precautions against such spells and his exact whereabouts are warded.”

Jace frowned. “Well how do we find him? The Northern Mountains are cold, you know. We can’t just traipse around in the snow until he takes pity on us and invites us in for some hot cocoa and a nice warm death bed.”

Clary snorted, retorting before Alec could open his mouth.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m sure there’s another sort of spell Magnus can use once we’re closer.”

Magnus grinned. “You are quite right biscuit, you catch on fast. Unlike blondie over there.” He smirked. “There is also a way of combining my magic with the Seelie’s magic to make spells stronger.”

A thought occurred to Alec. “Wouldn’t he have anticipated that? Us all ganging up on him? Surely he’s prepared for this.”

Magnus grinned ruefully. “Oh, I doubt it. Valentine has never seen us as ‘people’…perhaps that will be his fatal flaw. He doesn’t think Downworlders are smart enough, or can stop fighting for long enough to band together against him.”

Alec frowned. He was certain that there didn’t exist a person on earth who could spend ten minutes with Magnus and doubt his humanity.

“So, when do we leave?” Jace cut in, bouncing restlessly on the balls of his feet.

Magnus turned to smirk at him.

“How long does it take for you to arm yourselves?”

That was definitely the right question, Alec thought wryly. Ten minutes later he was standing by the front door, dressed in his dark leathers – clothing that allowed him a full range of movement and would also retain body heat in the cold mountains – and armed with his bow, stele, two wickedly sharp knives and four carefully wrapped throwing stars Magnus had given him, with a twinkle in his eyes. Alec wasn’t quite sure how to use them, never having thrown one before, but that damned sparkle had left him tongue-tied. Oh well. How hard could it be?

So ten minutes after Magnus had rolled up the map he was standing ready to leave by the door, alongside Clary, who had a small, thin sword strapped to her side – which Alec wasn’t entirely sure she knew how to wield, but she’d refused point blank to be left behind, and it was her mother they were rescuing, from her father, so he grudgingly supposed that she had a right to be involved – and a few knives strategically strapped onto her body using a few spare holsters of Izzy’s. Magnus had just joined them, looking resplendent in a shimmering purple blouse, the tightest shiny black pants Alec had ever seen and enough glitter in his hair to blind a person if the light hit it at the right angle. But it certainly wouldn’t blind him because he was doing his upmost to look everywhere _but_ the annoyingly attractive Warlock, trying to keep his mind focused on their impending mission.

Jace was, of course, missing.

Alec sighed internally as a distant clatter resonated through the house.

“Is he always like this?” Magnus asked dryly, drumming his fingers against his thigh.

Alec looked up and forced the leap his heart took when their eyes met not to show on his face. He nodded, adding a roll of his eyes for extra effect. Magnus sighed dramatically, leaning one hip against the wall. Alec averted his eyes.

“Blondie!” He called up the stairs. “If you’re not down in two minutes, I’ll send one of the wolves to drag you down!”

That did it.

Alec heard a crash and a muffled yelp, and not thirty seconds later Jace was standing beside them looking exactly as he had earlier that morning, with the exception of the huge broadsword strapped to his back. His eyes were darting nervously around before he glared at Magnus accusingly.

“There are no wolves here.”

Magnus threw his head back laughing, exposing the long lines of his throat.

“No. But it worked.”

Jace just intensified his glare.

“Are we going, or not?”

“Be careful, Clary.” A voice from behind them piped up, shaking.

Simon, of course, wouldn’t be joining them. Not only was he untrained, he was also entirely human and therefore the most vulnerable out of all of them. Magnus had reassured them that his wards would hold and Simon would be quite alright until they returned, hopefully with Jocelyn and the Downworlder children in tow.

“I will.” Clary murmured in reply, reaching out to squeeze his hands softly. Her green-eyed gaze locked with his soft, brown one. “I’ll find her.”

 

.

 

They met their motley crew of Downworlders at the edge of the Seelie Forest, about a mile’s walk from Magnus’s cottage.

“Neutral territory.” Magnus had said, in reply to Clary’s question.

The Seelie knights were stood waiting for them, though how they’d had any idea of where and when to meet, Alec had no idea. They looked oddly out of place, out of the forest. Even though they were standing in its shadow, it made a huge difference. They were still tall and looked wickedly imposing, but they were a lot less frightening when they couldn’t blend into the foliage. They looked more…human.

“Catarina will meet us there, with two other Warlocks.” Magnus told them all, after preliminary introductions had been made. And by that, he meant that Magnus had introduced them whilst the knights had ignored him, coolly indifferent.

“I will open a portal for Raphael and his Vampires when we locate the hideout- they can’t be outside at this hour. And we are just waiting for…oh, here they are now. Luke!” He called out, waving enthusiastically.

Alec followed his gaze and willed his muscles not to react. He felt Jace stiffen besides him, as they watched a pack of huge, sharp-toothed Werewolves lope up to them. The leader – the biggest one, a giant with dark brown fur and glowing green eyes – padded up to Magnus, butting his head against his hand playfully. Magnus chuckled. The Werewolf bared his teeth – but not in a threatening way, it actually seemed more like a _smile_ …but Alec didn’t know if that was even more unnerving. It shook its great head back and forth, before turning to glance over them all – and it froze.

It’s unnaturally piercing gaze was directed straight at Clary, and lasted long enough for Jace to narrow his eyes and shift himself slightly in front of her, looking to Magnus for help.

Magnus paused, looking between Clary and the Wolf. She just looked confused, but not scared, her head tilted questioningly.

Then the wolf dropped its gaze, seemingly to curl in on itself for a moment. There was a shimmering in the air around it, a flash of light, and suddenly, where there was once a wolf, a man stood. Tall and proud, muscles rippling under smooth dark skin, and with a gaze every bit as intense as the wolfs had been.

Clary gasped, her hand covering her mouth. She took a few steps forward, then stopped, as though unsure of herself.

“Luke…?” She asked, her voice breaking.

Happy was not a word strong enough to describe the expression that lit up his face, Alec decided. It wasn’t the only one, either.

Relief, joy, pain, nostalgia…in the space of a mere moment he went from being the strong and imposing pack leader to irrefutably human, a man who looked as though he’d just been blessed by God himself.

“Clary…”

Her name was a prayer on his lips, racing forth, leaving him breathless in the wake of salvation. It seemed to break the spell that had frozen her. She hurled herself forward, throwing aside the protective arm Jace had stretched out to her. He caught her in his strong arms, reaching down to lift her up fully, embracing her. Her cries of joy became sobs, and Alec felt marginally uncomfortable, in watching a scene far too personal for his liking. He shifted uncomfortably until they’d finally disentangled, sharing a bewildered glance with Jace.

“Well.” Magnus’s voice cut through, laden with humour. “I think perhaps, some explanation is in order?”

 

.

 

Life could be strange sometimes, Alec thought, but strange in the way that every piece fits together perfectly, like a puzzle that had always been destined to form a whole, but you couldn’t see how the pieces fit together until they had connected, revealing the picture.

Listening to Luke’s tale felt like that. Like their meeting him, his reunion with Clary, was just the last piece in a puzzle that had begun reforming long ago.

It was a tale of family, darkness, betrayal, love and eternal hope. Even Magnus was surprised by much of it; he hadn’t been nearly as involved with the last war against Valentine, he’d told them. Alec wondered why he’d chosen to fight this time.

Luke had been a Shadowhunter once, they’d learnt, as Clary clung to him, disbelief still clouding her eyes as she gazed up at him. He’d been Valentine’s _Parabatai_ , a fact that had chilled Alec to the bone. He couldn’t help but shift closer to Jace. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have been soul-bonded to such a person. It was unconditional love, no matter how terrible the person was. It was clear in his eyes that some of that feeling remained, even as he described to them how Valentine had betrayed him, leaving him to fight off a pack of wolves alone and unarmed. All for a false accusation of adultery. He’d been the one to help Jocelyn escape, help set her up in a village far away and helped raise her daughter. Clary. He’d been like a father to her for those early years, but hadn’t seen her in a long time. There had been a fight, he’d explained to them. He hadn’t lived with his pack, but still been involved with them. It was dangerous to be alone, as a wolf. Another pack had attacked, and killed their leader, a good friend of his, the man who had taken him in when he’d been alone and scared. He’d killed the other wolf in retaliation, and found himself leader of the pack. It was too dangerous to stay around Clary after that. Jocelyn hadn’t wanted her part of the shadow world in any way, shape or form. He’d had to keep his distance, for her sake. They both believed that Valentine would come for his revenge one day, and he would come for Luke first. He hadn’t wanted Clary to be caught in the crossfire.

It was told quickly, for they were short of time, but it was long enough for Luke to win over their entire group. Even the Seelies had looked as though they were not ignoring them as entirely as they had been before. Magnus was smiling gently, his eyes soft and unguarded. Alec couldn’t look away. He didn’t see Jace’s eyes on him, cool and assessing.

All too soon they were on their way; the reunion would have to continue after the rescue mission. And hopefully they could both be reunited with Jocelyn, too.

 

.

 

Frigid air hit them as soon as they stepped out of the portal, raising goosebumps on their exposed flesh. The wolves were lucky, Magnus thought. Their coats provided thick insulation. He could have easily warmed the air around himself, and Alec, Jace and Clary too, but there was a battle up ahead and he didn’t want to waste any magic on frivolous means. Still, every second they spent looking for the hideout he questioned his poor life choices. If anyone had told him a month ago that he would be fighting front and centre in _another_ Shadowhunter war, he would have laughed in their face. If Will were still alive, he would be sure to find it hilarious.

It didn’t take them long to find it, despite Jace’s complaining approximately every thirty seconds. Catarina had joined them, as well as another Warlock named Elias. When the three of them combined their powers with the four Seelie’s, the location was revealed to them almost instantly using a necklace of Lily’s that Raphael had given him. It was extremely well-hidden, the entrance hidden by an overhang of rock, a mere sliver of a gap in the mountains. It was very easy to miss if you didn’t know what to look for.

They quickly fell into a formation, silence falling and grave expressions settling on their faces. Magnus took the front, instructing Catarina to bring up the rear. The wolves split, half of them behind Magnus and half with Catarina, with the Seelie knights in the middle. Jace, Clary and Luke stood behind them, while Alec moved to stand with Magnus. The Warlock ignored the flutter his heart gave, forcing his eyes away from admiring the strong battle stance of the shadowhunter by his side.

He glanced quickly round their crew, all assembled and ready for battle. He turned back towards the entrance, holding his hands out in front of him.

“Be ready.” He muttered. “There are likely to be guards on the other side.”

With that, the concentrated his power and sent out a blast that disintegrated the door in front of them.

Alec tightened his grip on his bow, his knuckles white from the force.

Time seemed to suspend for a beat. Then two.

Then all hell broke loose.

“Get down!”

Magnus yelled, and Alec didn’t think twice before dropping into a crouch. A brutal force rippled over them, burning hot through the frigid air around them.

Not a split second after a second wave engulfed them, this one lukewarm and comforting. He lifted his head, his heart racing inside his chest. Magnus’s eyes were glowing, bright yellow iris’s burning with power. His hands were outstretched, his jaw taut with effort. Behind them were a semi-circle of warlocks, their hands stretched out in front of them and their faces twisted into grim smirks. They’d been ambushed.

“Magnus..?” Alec gasped, as the Warlocks struck again at the protection Magnus had cast around them. His hands were trembling with the effort of maintaining it.

“It’s ok.” He gasped. “I’ll hold them off, you go on ahead.”

Alec frowned, shaking his head.

“Jace. Lead them in, find Valentine.” He dragged his gaze away from Magnus, from the beads of sweat that were beginning to gather on his forehead.

Jace nodded, and gestured to the rest of their group.

“Go on, Catarina.” Magnus murmured, when she paused beside him. “I’ve got this.”

Alec waited until they had all disappeared into the hideout, still crouching under Magnus’s protective spell. He turned to the Warlock, his expression intent and calm despite the danger around them.

“In a moment, drop the spell.”

“Alec –”

“Listen. Drop the spell, they won’t be expecting it.” His blue eyes burned into Magnus’s yellow ones. He filed the sight of him, strong, powerful and out-of-this-world, away for later, he couldn’t afford any distractions right now. “Then we’ll strike, okay?”

Magnus help his gaze for one long moment, indecision burning bright. But Alec had made up his mind.

“You’ll burn out if we don’t try this.” He whispered, reaching out to touch his forearm lightly.

Magnus closed his eyes momentarily, something akin to pain fluttering across his face. Then he nodded once, short and sharp.

“On three.” His voice was quiet, his lips moving almost imperceptibly.

Alec swallowed, forcing himself to keep looking at Magnus, not to give away their plan.

“One.” He murmured, head bowed towards Magnus.

“Two.” Magnus held Alec’s gaze, still as stone.

“Three.” Magnus dropped the spell instantaneously, shooting a bright flash of light towards the enemy Warlocks, momentarily blinding them as Alec rose and twisted in the same fluid movement, bringing his bow up to eye level and firing out three deadly shots in quick succession.

He was right, they hadn’t been expecting it.

They dropped as one, the arrows embedded in their hearts.

Alec watched them fall as though in slow motion, the shock and agony on their faces all too starkly evident before their eyes rolled back, leaving expressionless corpses on the frozen ground.

All the air left his body in a choked gasp; the ice that covered to ground seeming to infiltrate his body, creeping through his veins. His heart was thumping, too loud, too fast, but his blood felt thick and sluggish.

He’d trained with the Knights of his father’s army ever since he’d been old enough to hold a sword, but never had he used his skills to end a life.

A single moment – that’s all it took.

A single moment, and three lives had been ended by his hand.

A hand on his forearm jerked him back to reality, comforting just as he’d done to Magnus moments ago. It was warm even through the leather of his jacket.

“Alexander.” Magnus’s voice was quiet – barely more than a whisper – but to Alec it was loud like thunder.

The fingers closed around his arm, softly but insistently tugging his attention away from the bodies on the ground.

Alec turned to meet Magnus’s eyes – back to their human – but no less enticing – shade of yellow-green. He didn’t say anything, just kept holding him. His fingers trailed down his arm, ever so softly taking Alec’s hand in his. Alec took a great shuddering breath of air, Magnus’s gaze and gentle grip anchoring him, silently reassuring him. His gaze wasn’t judgemental, wasn’t condescending, wasn’t fearful. It was warm and a little sad, seeming to hold a question; _are you okay?_

It took three more deep breaths for Alec to nod slowly, and Magnus smiled softly in return.

“Let’s go.” Alec broke their gaze, tugging his hand away. Frigid air rushing into the places he’d been touching to Magnus, not the only reason he sorely missed the connection. But it didn’t matter. His heart was heavy and cold, and there would be more death to wreak before they were done. The battle continued inside.

He shouldered his bow, leaving the arrows he’d used to kill stuck in the bodies behind him. He didn’t look back, but heard Magnus fall into step behind him as he stepped through the door.

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Malec is heating up ;) I really really wanna start writing the good stuff but I also really really love a slow burn...ygm? Fear not, it's coming up. Soon. Ish.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming face to face with some enemies!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is only two days late. After having been eight months late two days doesn't seem so bad?! But I am going to try and update every Thursday!

“So…your step-dad’s a werewolf, huh?”

Jace whispered, chuckling nervously as his eyes darted between Clary and Luke, who was padding ahead of them in wolf form. Jace gulped when his huge shaggy head turned to stare him down, the inhuman green eyes glowing. Clary suppressed a giggle.

“He’s not technically my step-dad, but yep. Werewolf.” She whispered back, eyeing him mischievously. “Does that scare you?”

“No.” Jace lied, refusing to meet her gaze.

“Are you sure?” There was amusement in her tone.

“Of course I’m sure. I’m a shadowhunter. Werewolves don’t scare me.”

“Jace.”

“Yes?”

“You’re shaking.”

He jumped as she placed a hand on his forearm, cursing out loud.

“Well that may have something to do with the fact that we’ve just broken into the hideout of the most dangerous madman alive, who is hellbent on mass-murder, taking the throne from my adoptive parents and oh yeah, who is your actual father!”

A low rumbling growl came from Luke, before he tensed and regained his human form. Jace recoiled slightly; his glare was no less intimidating as a man.

“You might want to keep it down.” He frowned, reprimanding them in a voice that was as forceful as it was quiet. “Unless you want to notify that madman that we have, as you put it, just broken into his hideout.”

“Right.” Jace swallowed, nodding. “Of course, sir.” He closed his eyes momentarily, silently berating himself. There was something about Clary that shook his confidence. It wasn’t a good thing. Her shoulders shook as she laughed silently, seemingly unafraid even in the midst of the – no offence to Luke – wolf’s den. Her bright copper hair gleamed in the partial darkness, her pale cheeks tinted rose. He swallowed again. It definitely wasn’t a good thing.

“If you guys are done,” a dry voice whispered behind them. “we should continue searching? I don’t know about you but I’d like to not be here a moment longer than necessary.”

Jace had almost forgotten that Catarina had accompanied them, distracted as he had been by Luke’s imposing wolf-form. They had split up once they’d gotten inside, after Catarina had opened a portal to let Raphael and his group of vampires through. They’d split half and half, each going with two of the Seelie knights and a few of Luke’s wolves. Catarina had come with them and Elias had gone to scout out any possible exits, seeing as the way they’d come in had now been compromised. It was nothing short of a miracle, the different downworlder factions coming together, working together, helping each other to achieve a common goal. Jace wondered if perhaps Valentine might influence their world for the better, despite his nefarious intentions.

They crept on noiselessly, the light getting dimmer the further into the hideout they went. It seemed to be an abandoned warehouse of some sort; perhaps it had been used for mining once. The walls were hewn rock, and moist with damp. It certainly hadn’t been chosen for its comfort. There were doors they passed every now and then, but a rudimentary search of each one revealed nothing. In some were empty crates, in others rusted chains on the walls, in some merely debris coated in a thick layer of dust.

“Are you sure we’ve got the right place?” Clary asked, doubt colouring her words.

“I’m sure.” Catarina answered softly. “Magnus tracked Tessa and the others to here. This is it. They’re here somewhere.”

The next door they came to looked different from the rest; it was cleaner, and didn’t creak when they opened it. It had clearly been in use recently. It opened into a large cavern, with high-ceilings that told them they were deep into the mountain now. Large shapes loomed out of the darkness, revealed to be long workbenches when Catarina conjured a ball of light into existence.

They crept in slowly, weapons out.

The benches were full of all manners of unidentifiable tools and substances, some bubbling ominously despite the lack of visible heating apparatus. Jace clenched his jaw, moving further into the room, ahead of Clary.

“What is all this?” She whispered.

Huge needles, some dripping with something that looked an awful lot like blood, were everywhere. There was an almost holy-like silence, the kind you’d get in a hospital – or morgue, more like.

“He’s experimenting again.” Catarina answered, softly. She turned to Clary, her eyes full of pity. The redhead squared her jaw, tightening her grip on her sword.

“I’ll make sure he never experiments on anyone, ever again.” She said, her voice low and dangerous.

The silence was broken suddenly as the door slammed shut, seemingly of its own accord. The sound reverberating through the room, the glass bottles and vials tinkling, as they jumped at the sound.

Jace raced forward, grabbing the handle and pulling with all his might, to no avail. He turned to face them, startled fear etched on all their faces, shadowhunter, wolf and warlock alike.

“It’s locked.”

“I can take care of that,” Catarina started forward, her hands out in front of her, when she was interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“Hello, Clarissa.”

 

.

Magnus tore his eyes away from Alec as they entered the hideout.

Comfort would have to wait until later; the corridor they were now in was dim and suspiciously empty. Magnus felt the hairs raise on his neck; there was a chill in the air that came from something other…something _wrong_. He flexed his fingers, lighting their way. He tried not to notice the way the dim glow glanced off Alec’s sharp cheekbones, his pale skin seeming to imbibe the magical light. Perhaps it was the angel blood in him. Perhaps it was just him.

He shook his head. The image of Alec standing over the corpses of the Warlocks he’d killed outside was frozen into his mind. The devastation on his face, the fear. Magnus wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. He didn’t even know what to think. Alec had acted on instinct, had acted to _save_ him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that. For so long he had been the protector, the one who cared. It was jarring, unsettling. He didn’t know if it was a good thing or not.

They crept on, ears straining for something, a sound, a voice to alert them to where the others were.

They turned left, following a path that sloped downwards. The walls seemed drier here, but the air even colder. On they went, and Magnus lost track of how many turns they’d taken. It was a labyrinth, even more convoluted than what he remembered of the Spiral Labyrinth, and he remembers the time he’d gotten so lost he’d inadvertently spent the night, and had to be rescued by Catarina the next morning.

Eventually Alec stopped, turning to Magnus. His eyes seemed even bluer down here, despite the dark.

“I think we’re lost.” He stated.

Magnus suppressed a grin. “I think that may have been part of Valentine’s reasoning when choosing this place.”

“Can you…I don’t know, track Jace or something?” His voice shook, he only indication that he was not entirely the strong, confident warrior he appeared to be.

Magnus grimaced. “I wish, but there is strong magic here. I tried to track them when we entered, but, nothing.”

Alec sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“Well maybe this was -”

A scuffling sound from around the next corner cut him off and they were both instantly alert.

“Careful…” Magnus whispered, moving ahead of Alec, who put an arm out to push him back. They crept forward together, hearts in their throats. Magnus was tense all over, feeling almost sick to his stomach. They were about to fight Valentine, or some of his cronies, at least. He was doing exactly what he’d told himself he would never do again; fight in a Shadowhunter war. But he wasn’t even afraid for himself. He was afraid for the beautiful boy beside him, so young and innocent – he just wanted to spare him from the things that he’d see, the things he’d have to do. But he couldn’t. the best he could do was fight by his side, be his friend…and perhaps when he assumed the throne he would remember Magnus, strive for peace between their two worlds.

Alec raised his bow, fingers tightening on an arrow. They rounded the corner together, adrenaline racing through their veins, ready to strike…

“For God’s sake, Magnus!”

Alec barely caught himself before he let the arrow fly.

“Raphael!” Magnus breathed. “Don’t sneak up like that!”

The vampire – Raphael, Alec remembered him from Camille’s lair – levelled him with an unimpressed glare, brushing dust off his suit from where they’d recoiled from the almost-attack.

“From where I was standing it was _you_ who snuck up on us, not the other way around.

He looked rather disgruntled, though at least he wasn’t baring his fangs, unlike the group of vampires behind him.

Alec lowered his bow, but didn’t relinquish his tight hold on it. He wouldn’t forget Camille’s lair, even though these vampires were loyal to Raphael over Camille, she was still technically their leader. The image of her pressing her blood-red lips to Magnus’s unwilling was burned into his brain, boiling his blood.

“I apologise, my dear Raphael. Now, have you found anything?”

Raphael glared at him a moment longer before turning to an iron door set deep within the stone walls, ignoring Alec completely.

“This is locked. Other rooms are open, empty, but open. I think there is something in here.”

Magnus stepped forward to inspect the door, running his hands lightly over the metal.

Alec leaned forward, as did Raphael and the other vampires. He almost didn’t hear it…almost. A faint whistling sound, the almost imperceptible sound that metal makes as it parts the air at a high speed. If it hadn’t been for the rune that he’d activated before they’d entered, the one for increased hearing, he wouldn’t have.

He acted on instinct, knowing that he would have time for nothing else.

“Get down!” He yelled, throwing himself forward.

His body collided with Magnus’s, sending them both sprawling – hard – onto the ground. He hadn’t even been such of the knife’s trajectory, but was overcome with an overwhelming sense of relief as it slammed against the iron door, in the exact place Magnus’s head had been a moment before. He didn’t waste any time checking to see if the warlock was alright before jumping to his feet, ignoring the pounding in his head where it had hit the floor. He drew his sword and a knife from one of his thigh holsters simultaneously, throwing the knife at their assailants as he swept the sword, knocking another out of the air.

It was chaos; the vampires were hissing, their fangs bared as they fell upon their enemies – shadowhunters, Alec realised, detachedly, as he engaged one in brutal combat, their blades thirsty for blood. He heard the crackling of magic behind him, felt Magnus’s rage in the air as deadly arrows of blue light shot down man after man.

It didn’t take long, the fight can’t have lasted more than a few minutes. But it seemed like a lifetime as the dust settled, and all Alec could hear was the thudding of his heart, all he could smell was the coppery tang of blood as he looked at the bodies on the floor.

Shadowhunters. Like him. And he didn’t feel a shred of remorse.

He turned, sheathing his sword, to see Magnus, his face pale, sinking down to the ground.

_._

They all whipped round, startled for the second time, to see a figure before them, lean and clad in similar dark leathers to Jace.

Clary let out a strangled scream, launching herself forward before anyone could stop her, her sword slashing down.

Valentine just laughed as it cut through him, leaving him unharmed, as Luke grabbed Clary around her waist, pulling her back.

“What -  ?!”

“He’s a hologram, Clary.” He told her, releasing her when she relaxed ever so slightly. “He’s not really here.”

She could see it now, how it flickered at the edges ever so slightly, how it was only two-dimensional. She wondered if the others had noticed straight away, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the figure in front of her. So this was him. Her father. For so many years she’d dreamed of this moment, of laying eyes upon him. How different reality was. She could feel her blood coursing through her veins, hot and angry, every beat of her heart screaming _“Not yours…not yours…”_

“Did you really think, Lucien, that I wouldn’t have been alerted the second you and your…” he glanced cursorily around the rest of their group. “ _companions_ set foot in my lair?”

Luke stood taller, but didn’t answer. Valentine continued.

“I know a lot of time has passed, but I never thought that you of all people would underestimate me.”

He turned to gaze at Clary again.

“Clarissa…” he repeated, drawing her name out, as though he were testing it upon his tongue.

“It’s Clary.” She glared at him.

A wave of sympathy crossed his face.

“You must allow me to apologise, Clarissa.” He ignored her. “Until recently, I had no idea of your existence.” He looked proud for a moment. “Jocelyn did well in hiding you.”

“Where is my mother.” Clary demanded, shaking Luke’s hand off her shoulder as she stepped forward.

“She is with me.” Valentine answered. “All you need to do is come to me, if you want to see her again. Come to me, Clarissa, and we can all be together. We can be a family. As I’m sure you’ve always wanted.”

She considered his words for a moment or two, then nodded slowly.

“I have always wanted that. In fact, that was my greatest desire…up until a few days ago, when I learned what a monster you were. Now the only way that I’ll join you…is over my dead body.”

She paused for a moment, tilting her head to the side.

“That means never, by the way.”

Anger flashed across his face, but was gone the second it appeared.

“You have only heard one side of the story, Clary.” He made his voice soft, imploring. “There is much that you do not know…about me, about your mother, about our world. There is much that I can tell you, much that I can teach you.”

“I don’t think I want to learn anything that you’d be able to teach me.” Clary shot back. “And my mother agrees. And even if everything I’ve heard about you so far has been a complete lie, there was a reason she hid me from you. She’ll never join you and neither will I. So you may as well tell me where she is and leave us to our lives. In fact, leave everyone to their lives. We’re all much better without you.”

“Don’t be a fool, Clarissa.” His voice was harder now. “You will be a Princess, your mother a Queen. Together we will cleanse the world, eradicating all demon spawn as William Herondale failed to do a century ago. There is even a place for young Jonathon, in the new world that I will build. Not for the young Prince and Princess of course, their heritage is too large a threat to me. But If you wish it, I will spare them.”

Clary was speechless, staring at the stranger in front of her. She was feeling so many things at once; anger, at his words. Fear, for her mother, for her new friends. And yearning, a deep and terrible yearning for the simple life she lived before. More than anything she wished that she could turn back time, before she knew of her father, before her mother had been taken from her, before she had been called upon to join this infernal war. Because she had no choice, she realised now. It had been about her mother, all about rescuing her, and the chance to rebuild their lives. But it was more than that, she realised. She hadn’t known them long, but she would fight for her friends. For Magnus, strange and eccentric he was, who had taken her in, given her food and shelter. For Isabelle, who had trusted her without question, who had talked and listened and made her smile through all she had lost. For Alec, who even though he still glared at her with mistrust in his eyes, had shouldered the mission to rescue her mother without question. And for Jace, the beautiful boy with the golden eyes, who had protected her, stood up for her, fought for her. And it was about more than them. It was about what was right, about morals and fighting for peace. She may not have chosen this war, but it had chosen her, before she was born.

“I will never join you.” She said, her words hanging in the space between them.

His lip curled, his eyes narrowing. He could have been a handsome man, tall and chiselled and pale. But it was his soul painted on his face, over those handsome features. And it was ugly.

“Then you will never see your mother again.”

He cast a glance over her companions.

“You may be able to save the prisoners, if you’re not too late. But it doesn’t matter really. You’ll all be dead soon.”

And with a parting glare, he vanished.

 

.

Terror spiked through Alec as he rushed to Magnus’s side, sliding an arm around his shoulders, holding him up.

“Mag-Magnus?” He couldn’t stop his voice from shaking, as he feverishly glanced over the Warlock’s body, looking for injuries.

“Alexander…” Magnus whispered. A thin sheen of sweat coated his skin and his eyes, which were normally bright were dull with fatigue. “I am okay. I am just a little burned out.” He lifted a shaky hand to Alec’s cheek, bringing a faint blush to his skin. Alec wordlessly raised his hand to cover Magnus’s, relief thrumming through his veins. In that split second as Magnus fell he had imagined the worst.

“Magnus.”

Raphael’s voice broke the silence around them, startling Alec into dropping Magnus’s hand. He was suddenly hyper aware of their closeness and jerked back, trying to put space between them whilst still supporting Magnus. He hoped he’d achieved impartial nonchalance, but the weird look Raphael gave him as he crouched by the two of them told him he probably hadn’t.

“Magnus. Can you stand? We shouldn’t linger here.”

Raphael grasped the hand that Magnus held out, helping Alec pull him to his feet, where he swayed for a moment, blinking.

“The anti-magic wards here are strong.” He said, hoarsely. “But I need - ” He closed his eyes momentarily, breathing deeply. “I need to open that door. I can sense it. The remnants of the tracking spell.”

Raphael frowned. “You can’t afford to do more magic. I’ve seen it happen before Magnus, risking your life will achieve nothing.”

Alec felt a grudging respect for Raphael. He must truly be loyal, to care for Magnus’s wellbeing even when they were so close to rescuing Lily, the sole reason for which he was there.

“There’s no other option.” Magnus took another deep breath. “I have enough magic left for this.”

“Magnus, no.” Raphael frowned. “I will find Catarina.”

Magnus shook his head. “No time.”

“Use the boy.”

Alec was confused at Raphael’s words. If four vampires couldn’t open the door, then how could he help..?

Magnus was shaking his head even as he questioned Raphael.

“A warlock can tap into a shadowhunters energy force, borrow a little to fuel their magic.” He explained.

“It’s okay Alec, you don’t have to.” Magnus said, cutting Raphael off.

Alec shook his head. “No, I will. Why didn’t you mention before? I’ll help anyway I can.”

Magnus shook his head again. “It’s – well, it’s not something that is done often. It’s…a rather intimate experience.”

Alec flushed, but was determined.

“Magnus, we have to rescue them. I will do what I can.”

Raphael nodded, to same grudging respect in his eyes that Alec had felt for him, moment before.

“What do we have to do?” Alec faced Magnus, staring at the ground.

“Just hold my hand.” Magnus murmured.

The connection was instant, Magnus’s hand warm in his own. Alec wasn’t sure he could vocalise what it felt like. It felt alive, like a link had been opened between Magnus’s soul and his own. There were no barriers between the two of them, they were pure energy, particles merging, joining. His breath caught and their gazes locked, brighter than ever. Alec felt like he was falling, floating, flying…and then it was over.

He felt strangely…empty as Magnus dropped his hand. It felt wrong…his body mourned the loss of the connection. He felt only half connected to reality, dazed, as though waking from a long sleep. But not tired…he felt as though the energy Magnus had taken had been replaced by something that was just as vibrant and purely _Magnus…_

He heard Magnus thanking him as though from a long way away, saw him turn to the door and send a blast of energy brighter than usual, that blasted the door off its hinges.

He snapped back into himself as Raphael and the other vampires hurried forwards.

It went very quickly after that.

There were five sets of chains hanging from the walls, and four of them occupied. Four more blasts of magic and they were free; a pale vampire girl, a young dark skinned girl with deep scars on her neck who had to be a werewolf, a young boy with dark hair and a woman with light brown hair and blue eyes whom he recognised from the history books he’d grown up reading. Catarina had shown up then, her face a picture of relief as she went to Tessa, hugging her, holding her up. Jace, Clary and Luke weren’t far behind, followed by the rest of the vampires and the Seelie knights, their blades dripping blood.

They’d wasted no time after that, once Jace and Clary had explained as quickly as they could their encounter with Valentine, and that they wouldn’t find Jocelyn down there. They’d helped the hostages out of the hideout, all breathing sighs of relief when fresh air hit their faces. It had been easier for Magnus and Catarina then to create portals; one for the vampires, from just outside the hideout. Catarina, Tessa and Elias, the warlock boy, disappeared through another to a safe house of hers, promising to visit Magnus the next day once Tessa and Elias had healed. And finally Magnus, Alec, Jace, Clary, the werewolves and the Seelies returned to the edge of the forest. The Seelies and werewolves vanished immediately apart from Luke, whom Magnus had invited back with Clary.

The five of them began the short trek back to Magnus’s cottage under the setting sun, exhausted mentally and physically. Some colour had returned to Magnus’s cheeks after he’d taken some of Alec’s energy but he was still pale, and walked slowly. It was a silent walk; they’d achieved most of what they’d set out to do and none of their number had been lost, but they had wreaked death and destruction, which was nothing to smile about even if the dead had been out to kill them.

It had been a successful mission, Alec supposed. But he felt hollow inside. He wondered if this was how William Herondale had felt, after they’d won the Mortal War. Empty, unsatisfied, tired.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn’t notice that Magnus had stopped until he walked into the arm he’d thrown out. He was immediately alert although his body protested, his limbs heavy and his head swimming.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, casting a glance around. He could see Magnus’s cottage a short way away, but nothing seemed amiss.

Magnus frowned.

“I don’t know. But it is something. My wards…they feel…off.”

Alec reached for his sword, Jace and Clary doing the same, but he never got there.

“Freeze where you are!”

The order came from behind them, and they turned to see a line of Palace guards with swords and shields, pointed straight at them. _No_ , Alec thought with a spike of fear. _Pointed straight at Magnus._

He cast a glance at the Warlock, who was staring back at him with a pained expression. He twitched his hands and shook his head minutely, to indicate: _I’m out of magic._

Alec took a deep breath, and leaped into action. Drawing his sword he darted in front of Magnus, shouting at Jace.

“Get Isabelle and run!”

Jace turned on his heel racing toward the cottage, guards in hot pursuit. Out of the corner of his eye Alec saw Luke phase, startling the guards who had surrounded him. Clary jumped on his back and they raced away, Luke’s speed in wolf form no match for the guards, but Alec’s relief was short-lived as they caught up to Jace. They circled him and Magnus, too many for him to count. His vision began to blur as he swung his sword around, gripping Magnus’s sleeve with his other hand.

“Alec, it’s okay.” Magnus whispered into his ear. “Go with them. We’ll figure something out.”

“No - ”

“This doesn’t end well if you put up a fight. There are too many of them.”

He turned slowly, keeping his sword pointed toward one of the guards, who was slowly advancing. Magnus was so close like this; they were chest to chest, their heads bowed toward one another. He could count the individual eyelashes, if he wanted to. He could see where the black liner has smudged in the corner of his left eye. See his lips, watch them tremble as he spoke.

“We will find a way, Alexander. This doesn’t end here.”

Alec brought his free hand up to brush against Magnus’s cheek, couldn’t help himself.

“I hope not.” He whispered, lowering his sword, fighting the urge to fight, to escape.

The guards rushed forward, grabbing him, pulling him back. Grabbing Magnus…

“Leave him!” Alec’s shout came out in a gasp. “He has nothing to do with this!”

“We have orders, your Highness.” The guard closest to him said.

Alec could do nothing but watch in horror as they twisted Magnus’s arms behind his back, causing him to grimace in pain. They snapped cuffs of thick black metal on his wrists.

“Where is the girl?” The guard who had spoken before shouted out, at the guards who were exiting Magnus’s house.

“Not here captain.” They answered. “We searched everywhere.”

Alec closed his eyes momentarily, thanking the Angel that Izzy was in the Seelie Court. But what of Simon..?

The captain frowned, glaring daggers at Magnus.

“You’ll have this and more to answer for, Warlock.” His voice was pure venom, the hatred in his eyes chilling Alec to his core.

“Let’s move out!” He called. Then to Alec; “Your fiancée is waiting for you at the castle.”

A jolt of fear shot through Alec, he jerked his head up to see something like shock and surprise flashing across Magnus’s face, then resignation.

“Magnus.” He called out, straining against the hold the guards had on him.

He didn’t meet his gaze, didn’t lift his head, didn’t acknowledge Alec as he was marched past and shoved into a wagon that had been stashed behind a copse of trees, something they had failed to notice in their exhaustion.

Alec wasn’t sure how everything had come crashing down around him, but he had no idea how he would fix it. _If_ he could fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger. Not sorry.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new character pops up, a perceived betrayal and a painful visit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so fun to write! We're right in the thick of it now. It's also taking a lot more words than I thought it would to do this story justice...but that just means more chapters so that's alright :) The bit in italics is a flashback, and I'm sorry for the ending. It turned out angstier (is that a word?) than expected. All shall be resolved.

Alec had never felt more out of place.

As they approached the castle, the familiar sight of his home had never appeared so alien.

His protests had fallen on deaf ears during the journey, the guards sitting opposite them in the wagon stoic and silent. Magnus had been led into the second wagon, which though it had been trundling along behind them, was driven behind the castle instead of in front of it, where Alec and Jace were let out.

Alec’s heart was beating twice as fast as usual as he watched Magnus being driven away, as he stood in front of the imposing grey walls of the castle. They’d only been away from home a few weeks but it felt like a lifetime. He had changed – his home had not. His mind was whirring, cycling back over the last few hours, trying to make sense of things, trying to find a way out of this situation…it was a mistake, it had been a huge mistake…Magnus hadn’t done anything wrong, if the guards hadn’t understood him then his parents surely would…

The guards escorted them through the halls, while every fibre of his being screamed to go back, to run, to pull those hideous heavy cuffs off Magnus. But he swallowed those desires and kept on putting one foot in front of the other.

Standing there, in the throne room in front of his parents, Alec’s chest tightened, feeling like he’d rather be somewhere else. _Anywhere_ else. Anywhere that didn’t feel as though the walls were slowly closing in on him; so different to the openness and freedom of Magnus’s cottage.

 “We are so relieved to have you both back home.” His father was saying. His tone was stiff and cold, and for the first time, Alec heard it. The cool vein of indifference that ran through his words. Had he always sounded like that?

“The warlock will be sentenced tomorrow. The full jury has been summoned, and fear not - ”

“Wait, what?” Alec blurted out. A low buzzing filled his head, a sick feeling gathering in his stomach. “The warlock will be what?”

Robert levelled his eyes at him, his expression hard.

“He will be sentenced. And I have already drafted new laws concerning magic-users and their rights – we have been too tolerant for too long, turning a blind eye to their tricks and slights. But stealing you both away, not to mention Isabelle, we cannot tolerate it any longer. Isabelle has yet to be found but I have sent more men out. And of course, the warlock is being questioned as we speak…”

The sickness in Alec’s stomach increased with every word that came out of his father’s mouth. To sentence Magnus, punish him for _their_ actions…to pass laws further discriminating against and ostracizing downworlders from society… _questioning_ Magnus on Isabelle’s whereabouts…he wanted to rage, to argue, to put things to rights…but his voice seemed to have deserted him. Luckily, Jace had no such problem.

“Father, if I may.” His frown was deep but his tone respectful. Still, Alec knew him well enough to detect the frustration behind it.

“There has been a misunderstanding.” He continued. “We left of our own accord, to seek Magnus out. We wanted to find Valentine, to defeat him. Magnus was helping us. And we have a lot to tell you - ”

“Enough, Jonathon.” Roberts voice was hard, his stoic façade flickering for a moment. “You did nothing of the kind, understand?” His eyes flicked between the two of them. “Bane kidnapped you, in retaliation for the slight of being released from service here at the castle. He kept you imprisoned at his residence, and when he saw that soldiers had found you, spirited Isabelle somewhere else. We do not know where exactly, but we will find out through methods of…” his eyes glittered. ‘Persuasion. He will pay for this crime dearly, likely with his life, and if either of you protest this _justice_ , attempt to contact Bane or any other downworlder, I will personally see to it that you do not leave your rooms until Isabelle has returned and justice has been served.”

A ringing silence followed this proclamation, which Alec had heard as though from a long way away. He was seeing it now, all of it. His childhood, his society. Everything he had taken for granted, in his status as a shadowhunter. Every little slight to downworlders that he had accepted as the norm. Every way in which his father had taken the easy way out – not the strong, righteous leader as Alec had once seen him, someone to look up to and emulate. But someone scared – of those who were different, such as downworlders. Those who would take his power away, like Valentine. And those who might judge him for taking action, so he didn’t. He almost wasn’t aware of Jace breaking the silence, so caught up was he in his horror of a realisation.

“…listen to me, please. There is a real threat out there. We need to band together, we need Magnus on our side. He isn’t the problem here - ”

“Aldertree.” Robert barked out, calling to a man standing to attention behind them, speaking over Jace. “Please escort Lord Herondale back to his quarters, and see to it that he does not leave until I say so.”

He narrowed his eyes at Alec, as though challenging him, ignoring Jace’s protests.

Alec bowed his head, ever the subservient son.

“I am sorry, father. He should not have been able to capture us, for we are superior, the Angel’s Chosen.” The Angel’s Chosen – a choice term amongst shadowhunters when referring to themselves. Alec had never before realised how egocentric it was.

Robert leaned back a little, observing him. Jace gaped, his mouth wide open.

“Alec - ”

“It’s over, Jace.” He looked Jace in the eye, trying to convey a silent message. “We are safe, back home. We can only hope that the warlock will tell us where to find Izzy, then everything will be back to normal, as it should be.”

“Don’t worry about your sister, Alexander.” Robert reassured him. “We will find her.”

 _Alexander…_ A whisper, in Magnus’s voice, echoed through his mind.

 “Alec, you can’t be serious!” Jace’s voice was coloured with disbelief. “You know what happened!”

Alec swallowed past the lump in his throat, willing himself to stay strong as he looked his brother in the eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what happened. We’re home now.”

A gesture from Robert and Aldertree was forcefully leading Jace from the hall, and Alec was trying to tune out his angered shouts. He forced his face into a picture of serenity as he smiled at his father, standing tall, the perfect soldier he’d been raised to be. He only hoped he could keep up the façade.

 

.

_(The day before)_

_Izzy was stumbling through the forest, branches and leaves whipping against her face as she ran, her attention focused on the compass in her hand. Her breath came in short gasps, the heels of her boots sticking in the mud and getting caught in vines underfoot._

_The Seelie Court hadn’t been bad at all, she thought. It was stunningly beautiful, all earthy and natural – as though the court had grown out of nature itself, the earth hollowing out and the trees winding into intricate walls and ceilings. The Queen had welcomed her into her home; she’d danced with faeries – a beautiful man with leaves for hair whose eyes were to colour of moss and a strikingly ethereal woman with violet skin, silver hair and stars for eyes. She’d been enchanted by them both, and indeed, all of the faeries dancing around her. She saw why it was dangerous for mortals in that place. If it hadn’t been for her voyance rune, the one shaped like an eye on the back of her right hand that allowed to her see through glamour and sense magic, she might have let herself fall into their charm, forgetting her life outside the court, wishing to stay forever._

_But even though their enchantments didn’t affect her, Seelie magic still worked in ways she did not understand. It seemed to her that she had only been dancing for a few moments when the party disappeared, the twirling bodies vanishing, leaving her standing alone under a velvet blanket of stars, blinking. She’d turned to see a single Knight standing before her, with tan skin and long dark hair tied back from his face. He too was beautifully fae, that inherent otherness about them, that magical quality that called: come hither. But he was more solid, it seemed, more tangible._

_“Isabelle.” His voice was soft and strong at the same time, and she floated towards it. “Isabelle, wake up.”_

_His hand was around her arm then, and they were floating, flying, soaring up…_

_She blinked, and the feeling was gone. Gone too was the courtroom, where dancing bodies had twirled, the walls of vines, the thousand stars in the sky. Now the sky was a dark canopy of trees, and it was silent._

_“Am I – back?” She stumbled over her words, disorientated._

_The Knight let her go, bowing his head._

_“The Queen sends her regards, but you are needed in this realm now. We hope you have enjoyed your sojourn in Seelie.”_

_She blinked, her mind catching up._

_“I’m…needed?”_

_“Yes.” His voice was sharper now, less song-like than before._

_“The knights, have they returned already?”_

_“Not yet.”_

_“But that was the condition - ”_

_“The Queen will always make a bargain. It is unwise to not do so. But Magnus Bane has long been a friend to us. You are needed at his home.”_

_A spike of fear shot through her._

_“What’s wrong? Is he ok? Is it Alec?”_

_“I do not know, I am afraid.”_

_“Well…I don’t…I don’t know the way back.”_

_She felt stupid, helpless, out of her depth. If something had happened that was so serious that the Queen would release her early…she needed to be there. But she had no way of knowing which was the right direction, they’d relied on Magnus to guide them here before…_

_“The Queen wishes to bestow upon you two gifts. We hope that they will help you in your quest.”_

_She was still confused but watched as he pulled a small box out of a leather pouch at his waist._

_“This is a compass. Follow it and it will take you wherever you need to go.”_

_Wordlessly she grasped the box, his hands surprisingly warm and rough under hers. She opened it to see a crudely painted circle with only one arrow, that swung wildly around before settling in a direction off to her right._

_She looked up at him. “Thank you.”_

_In lieu of a response he drew a second item out of the pouch, handing it to her without a word._

_She opened her fist to reveal a beautiful tiny flower, encrusted in gold leaf, on a delicate chain._

_“Wearing this you will be invisible, and you cannot be tracked.”_

_She was speechless, holding two items of what she was sure was strong, highly sought after magic._

_“I am in the Queen’s debt.” She said, wishing she had something to give back to them._

_“The debt will be paid when our knights return to us.” He replied, bowing his head. “This is a gift, given freely, and the Queen does not often do so. Just use them well, and that will be thanks enough.”_

_She swallowed, nodding._

_“Wait,” she called out, as her turned to go. “I don’t even know your name.”_

_His gaze softened as her looked at her for a moment._

_“Meliorn.” He told her. He held her gaze for a moment more, then seemed to melt into the trees. She gasped, even after all she had seen of magic._

_Then she carefully pocketed the necklace, flipped open the compass and set off, silently swearing never to forget this act of kindness._

_She burst out of the forest, blinking in the daylight, her eyes protesting the brightness after so long spent among the dim shadows between the trees. She didn’t need the compass from here, she could see the plumes of smoke curling out of Magnus’s chimney in the distance. She pocketed it, making sure it was secure alongside the necklace, and took off running. She hoped that everyone was ok. She couldn’t let herself imagine the worst._

_It didn’t take long before she was bursting in the front door._

_“Magnus?” She called, panting. “Alec? Jace?”_

_“Isabelle?”_

_A voice from the living room startled her. Simon was alone, sitting curled up on one couch while Chairman Meow was on the other, eyeing him mistrustfully._

_“What are you doing back?” He asked, standing._

_She was confused._

_“A message from the Seelie Queen…” she began, trailing off. “Nevermind. No-one else is back? What day is it?”_

_She knew that time moved differently in the Seelie realm. She would have sworn she was only there for an hour or two, but it could have been a week in her world._

_“It’s Tuesday.” Simon replied, pushing his glasses up. He was sort of cute when he did that, she noticed distractedly. “You left last night, everyone else left this morning.”_

_Her brow furrowed. “So it’s…”_

_“Mid-afternoon.” Simon supplied helpfully. “Magnus said they probably wouldn’t be back before nightfall. I am kind of glad I won’t be here alone when it gets dark though!” He shot a furtive glance around, as though the furniture might leap at him.”_

_Isabelle ignored him, wandering over to the window, where she could see the sun over the horizon, hanging low in the sky._

_“Then I wonder why…”_

_She broke off, narrowing her eyes at something in the distance._

_“What? What is it?” Simon asked, joining her at the window._

_“I just…those colours…”_

_He looked to where her gaze was focused. A number of men on horses were approaching, wearing helmets and tunics in deep scarlet and silver. As they got closer the sigil stitched into their garmets was easily decipherable. Isabelle gasped, grabbing Simon just as a high-pitched bell began tolling through the cottage._

_“Simon, quick. We have to go – now!”_

_“Wh-why?” He sounded alarmed stumbling after her as she ran up the winding stairs, into the room she’d shared with Clary._

_“Those are castle guards.” She explained hurriedly, throwing him a clothes sack. “Put some of your things in there and meet me downstairs._

_She quickly grabbed a cloak, a spare tunic, a pair of shoes and a small bag of coins they’d brought with them. Rushing downstairs, the glimpsed through a window that the guards were almost at the cottage. She swore under her breath and leaped the last few steps, grabbing Simon by the arm._

_“Do you have a plan?” He panted, quick on her heels as she pulled open the back door and raced outside._

_“Nope!” She called back._

_Thankfully Magnus’s cottage was situated at the foot of a small hill, which would hopefully provide some cover for them as they escaped. As soon as they could they plunged into the cover of a copse of trees and stopped running._

_Isabelle felt the pouch at her waist, the comforting weight of the two objects that sat there. She had a feeling she’d be needing them both very soon._

_They didn’t look back as they walked away._

_._

Alec’s heart was beating fast, thudding unevenly as he strolled through the castle halls that evening, forcing a calmness that he did not feel over himself. He slipped through the heavy oak door that led into the kitchens, schooling his features into a friendly smile when one of the cooks greeted him with a frown.

“What can I do for you, your highness? Was dinner not to your liking?”

 _No, not really._ Alec thought. But it was more to do with the chilly atmosphere than the food, of which he’d hardly been able to eat a bite. It was to do with the empty chairs where Isabelle and Jace usually sat, the chair opposite him where Magnus had sat that one time, the silence loud as a storm as his parents ate, barely speaking, never looking at each other.

“It was delicious, thank you. But I appear to have worked up an appetite again – long session in the training hall. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to workout, I may have overdone it a little.”

He added the last bit and saw her face soften into a pitying smile. Of course, the whole castle and probably the whole of Idris had heard about their kidnap and their miraculous rescue, from the cruel, malicious warlock who was now held in their dungeons. Watched over by a rotation of palace guards, who would be changing over any moment now.

He’d been close to panicking, earlier, trying to figure it all out on his own, tricking his parents into thinking that he hadn’t changed, that nothing had happened, that he would support and follow them as always. He couldn’t see Jace, he had no idea where Izzy was…hell, he’d even be glad of Clary’s company, if only it meant that he didn’t have to shoulder that burden alone.

He’d been shocked when Lydia, his ‘fiancée’, approached him while he was pacing in the gardens, racking his empty brains. He’d been able to trust her before, he remembered. She didn’t want this either. She and Izzy had been…well, he didn’t know what they’d been, but that was none of his business. Surely she would understand. He’d taken a chance, but he didn’t have any other choice. He didn’t know what would happen to Magnus otherwise. She’d agreed to help much more quickly than he’d anticipated. She’d even formulated a plan; she truly was brilliant, Alec acquiesced to himself. It was no wonder that both of his siblings had fallen for her.

It was brilliant in its simplicity, but he couldn’t have done it without her. Without too much effort she’d gotten the list of guards down for the dungeon shift. And the two who were beginning just about now – Evan and Thomas – were apparently fond of her. She would bring them beer, and ask them to drink with her. While they were distracted, Alec would sneak through a secret passageway that Izzy had shown him once into the heart of the dungeons. Hopefully he would be able to find Magnus’s cell from there, and…explain. Apologise. He didn’t know what exactly, but he didn’t let himself think about that. He would worry about getting there first.

It was about time he thought, wanting to hurry from the kitchens but he kept his pace even as he tucked the pouch full of fresh bread and cheese that he’d gotten from the cook beneath his shirt.

He made it to the dungeons without coming across anyone – the hour was late so most of the castle’s inhabitants would have retired to their rooms already, and his parents trusted him thanks to his lies, but Alec was still grateful he didn’t have to come up with an excuse for why he was skulking around the lower levels of the castle at this time of night.

He double checked the hall before slipping through a door hidden behind a tapestry, again wishing that Izzy was there with him. She was so much better at this sort of thing. Hurrying through the dark passageway the air grew colder. He hadn’t been in the dungeons many times before, but had seen enough to know that it wasn’t a pleasant or comfortable place. Every fibre of his being wanted to burst in there, to find Magnus, pull him out of his cell…but he forced himself to take a deep breath, to wait.

He only had to wait a few minutes but it felt like hours before he heard faint voices coming from the other side of the wall. Lydia, and the Guards. Letting out the breath he’d been holding he continued down the passageway, feeling his way through the dark, continuing down into the dungeons.

It was cold, but the chill was different to what it had been in the mountains. There was no fresh air down here, everything felt stale…trapped. A few torches lit the walls as he slipped out of the passageway into the dungeons. It wasn’t much, but enough light to see by…enough to see that the all the cells he passed were empty.

It wasn’t often that they kept a prisoner in the dungeons, it wasn’t often that they had prisoners at all. His father preferred to keep offending shadowhunters in holding rooms at the court house before they were sentenced, and since the Mortal War the uneasy peace between shadowhunters and downworlders had led to the downworlders governing themselves, as much as possible. Unless something serious happened, the shadowhunters didn’t interfere. These dungeons hadn’t been properly utilised in over a hundred years, back in a time when the prejudice against downworlders wasn’t hidden beneath meaningless treaties and the bare minimum of tolerance. He, Izzy and Jace used to dare each other to explore, before they’d gotten caught and warned away. It wasn’t a nice place to be.

He rounded another corner, to a passageway that sloped down further. His breath crystallised in white puffs and goosebumps erupted onto his skin. Then, finally, he saw Magnus.

His heart stopped.

He’d been left in the handcuffs, and the further Alec got he could see the places where they’d rubbed his skin raw. He swallowed the bile that rose up in his throat. The handcuffs had been connected to a chain that hung from the ceiling, long enough that Magnus could stand but short enough that he couldn’t sit down.

The shame Alec felt at seeing that act of pure cruelty sent him reeling.

Magnus’s head was hanging, his clothes were ripped and dirtied. Alec wondered what else they’d done to him, then decided he didn’t want to know. Not if he was going to keep up the charade of backing his parents.

He closed the last few metres between them, grasping onto the iron bars of the cell, relief and anger warring inside him, for having found Magnus in the state he was in.

Just as he was about the speak, the warlock raised his head, glittering green eyes dull with exhaustion and resignation meeting his.

“Hello, Alexander.”

 

.

“Magnus.”

He breathed, leaning against the bars. They were rough against his skin, the wrought iron, but he didn’t care. He pressed as close as he could, as though he thought he could slip through them into the cell.

They stared at each other for a long moment, green eyes into blue. The wariness in Magnus’s eyes shattered Alec’s already broken heart.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice breaking. “Magnus…I’m so so sorry.” Even as he apologised he yearned for more…mere words would not heal what Magnus had been subjected to…what he was being subjected to.

Magnus’s gaze softened a little.

“Well.” His voice was raw, throaty. “Unless you tipped the guards off as to where we were, I don’t think it’s entirely your fault. I was a little surprised to hear about the…ah, _fiancée,_ though.”

Alec shook his head vehemently, though he knew Magnus was speaking rhetorically. He ignored the shame he felt at the mention of Lydia. He didn’t even know how to broach that subject, to explain it.

“Still…if we hadn’t come to you…”

Magnus stopped him with a raised eyebrow.

“I believe it was actually I who came to you, in the forest.”

“But – we were on our way to see you, you would have been brought into it either way - ”

Magnus stopped him again.

“Alexander. I can assure you that if I had not wished to help, I would have sent you promptly on your way. It was my choice, and though it may not have been the smartest choice I’ve ever made, if this is the consequence, it is no-one’s fault but my own.”

Alec frowned at the floor, silence falling between them.

“I’m going to get you out.” He promised the dust on Magnus’s shoes.

“Oh? And how are you going to do that, shadowhunter?” Alec flinched at the hard tone.

“You’ll be trialled tomorrow. Maybe I could - ”

“I’m pretty sure at this point the trial is merely a front.” Magnus interrupted, resignation colouring his words. “To honour the treaty. When I’m dead that won’t matter though. I don’t think your father has considered the powerful allies I have.”

Alec’s mouth gaped open.

“De- no, no. We abolished capital punishment.” Adrenaline surged through his veins, icy and uncomfortable. Just the thought of it…

Magnus looked at him then, pityingly.

“I’m sorry, Alexander. But do you really think your father will allow me to live?”

“Can’t you just…” Alec flourished a hand weakly, imitating Magnus’s magical flair.

“The cuffs prevent it.” He answered quietly. “It will be okay, Alexander.” His voice was soft again. “I would rather not die, of course.” He joked weakly. “But you are safer here than you were with me. Just promise me that you won’t go after Valentine again. His plans are worse than I feared.”

Alec shook his head, words escaping him. He pressed closer, gripping the bars as though there were a lifeline. He couldn’t comprehend the things that Magnus was saying.

“You will live a long and happy life with the Branwell girl. They are a decent family. I knew her ancestor quite well, before…”

Before the divide, he meant. A time when shadowhunters and downworlders existed together, not in the world of uneasy, distanced peace that was all Alec knew.

“I won’t.” Alec said, his voice barely audible. He closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall.

“You won’t what?” Magnus murmured. There was too much space between them. It hurt.

Alec looked at him, at the barely concealed sorrow on his face.

“I won’t live happily with her.” He whispered. “Not when…”

He broke off. Magnus understood. He’d always understood, even when Alec hadn’t been able to see it or believe it himself.

“I brought you some food.” Alec said thickly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He reached into the pouch. “I wasn’t sure if they’d given you anything.”

Magnus smiled, sniffing, struggling to hide his pain.

“They haven’t.”

Alec passed the bread through the bars and Magnus stretched out…the chain was just long enough to reach, and their fingers brushed as Magnus took the food. A shock of electricity shot through his body and he exhaled, some of the tension leaving him from the small comfort of that touch. He watched him eat, watched his mouth close over the bread, he eyes close, his eyelashes brush his golden cheek. How had he ever managed to hide what Magnus made him feel? Maybe he hadn’t, he realised. Everybody else seemed to have figured it out. The only person he’d managed to hide it from was himself. He hadn’t done anything about it, and now their time was ticking. He would do everything in his power, he realised, to prolong it, for as long as he could.

He passed the cheese through when Magnus was done, tensing when he heard the distant echo of footsteps.

“I have to go.” He said, every muscle in his body protesting that he remain where he was.

Magnus nodded, his eyes frantically darting over Alec, as though he were committing him to memory.

“Don’t, Magnus, please.” Alec whispered, pained. He reached his arm out again, not bothering to hide his sigh of relief when their fingers touched once more.

“I’m going to get you out of here.” He promised.

The small flicker of trust in Magnus’s eyes was worth it, he told himself. Magnus was worth it. Worth risking his title, his home, his future…because he knew that none of that would matter one bit in a world where Magnus had ceased to exist.

His heart beat a steady rhythm as he slipped back into the passageway. He was chilled to the bone, scared, furious, worried…but he was determined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next Thursday to see what Alec's planning ;)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planning a rescue and SIZZY!! And a lil bit of angst. I'm sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 70,000 words!!!
> 
> When I first planned this story I intended to finish it, of course, but I had never attempted anything this long before. I am kind of proud its gotten this long :') there'll be about five more chapters I think, but there's a lot to pack in so we'll see! :D

Isabelle was tired, cold and scared.

Not that she would admit that last bit to Simon, who couldn’t stop yawning behind her. The sun was only just rising and mist carpeted the ground, dew droplets coating their clothes and hair, but they were already on the move. They’d spent the last night sleeping in the forest, under the cover of a few branches that she’d managed to find. The ground had been cold and uncomfortable, but pressed together with their bags as pillows and their jackets draped over them, they’d managed to get a few hours of sleep.

Now it was morning, and she had to figure out what to do. She didn’t know what had become of the others, if they’d found Valentine, if the mission had been a success, if they’d gone back to the cottage…it was killing her, not knowing. She’d gotten the compass out that morning, hoping it would point her to her brothers. But it just kept spinning, never settling on a direction.

Her muscles protested as they climbed a hill, but she sighed in relief as plumes of smoke rose in the distance, shapes rising above the fog. Perhaps they could ask around, find out what the shadowhunter knights intended. They could ask about Magnus – surely people there would know of him. Perhaps someone would know where he’d gone, with Alec and the others. For they certainly couldn’t have gone home with the soldiers there. But they were in downworlder territory, Isabelle remembered. She turned to Simon, grabbing his arm.

“Oh, h-hello. What is it?” He stuttered, using his free hand to push his glasses up his nose.

She suppressed a grin. He was definitely cute, she supposed, in a lanky, awkward sort of way. They’d slept beside each other that night, their bodies pressed together from shoulder to foot, yet he was still nervous around her. It was endearing, a stark difference to the shadowhunter boys who would swagger before her, flexing their muscles, as if she couldn’t floor them with a well-placed flick of her wrist.

“We’re going into that village, but we can’t be seen.”

“Oh…” Simon frowned. “Why not? Do they want to kill us as well?” He shivered, and she knew that he was reliving his kidnapping at the hands of Camille’s clan of vampires.

“No, no.” She shook her head kindly, then frowned. “Well, I hope not. It’s just – there are no mundanes in Idris. And this is downworlder territory. Most village folk around here have probably never seen a shadowhunter.”

He frowned.

“But…the vampires…they lived near your city? And Magnus?”

She wondered how to explain the fragile politics of their world. Now that she thought of it, this was the first time she had really considered it. She’d grown up with the divide, and even if she had never been prejudiced against downworlders, she had understood that the two just didn’t mix.

“It’s not a complete split,” she started, thinking it over. “Alicante – our capital city – is in the south. That’s where most shadowhunters live. The Seelie Forest divides the south from the north, where most downworlders live. Some shadowhunters live in the north, of course, and some downworlders live in the south. But even if they do, they rarely mix. There are a few downworlder villages in the south, and a few shadowhunter villages in the north, as well as some in the mountains. But especially now, with Valentine, I doubt they feel too welcome.” She frowned, gazing off into the distance. Simon looked down at the village.

“So how do you know that’s not a shadowhunter village?”

She pointed at their feet; half concealed with grass was a large pawprint in the mud, larger than any dog. Simon yelped, jumping away from it, looking around frantically while she supressed a smile.

“But even if it was a shadowhunter village, we’d need to stay hidden from everyone. We don’t know who might be working for my parents.”

He recovered himself, clearing his throat.

“Right. And your parents are…”

She widened her eyes bemusedly. Clary had gotten the full introductions, but what with his kidnapping right after they’d met, Simon hadn’t.

“The King and Queen of Idris.”

His mouth fell open as he stared at her in shock, looking rather funny before he blinked and swallowed.

“Right. Ok. Right. Yes. Um. Do I need to call you…um…”

“Call me Izzy. Please.” She shook her head, smiling again as she reached in the pouch at her waist, pulling out the flower necklace. She looped it carefully around his head, slipping under so they were chest to chest. She hadn’t realised before, but he was a little taller than she was. They were about equal when she wore her heels. His dark brown eyes looked nice from this close up, she mused. They looked kind.

“Um.” Simon said again, cheeks flushing. “What is this for?”

“Gift from the Seelie Queen.” She murmured, looking into his eyes. She heard him swallow. “It makes us invisible.”

He perked up at that. “That’s so cool!”

“Let’s hope it works, yeah?”

She threaded an arm under his, keeping him close whilst carefully keeping hold of the delicate chain. They began down the hill, towards the village.

.

The sun was shining weak but bright that morning, the air crisp and cold as Alec walked through the gardens beside his mother. He held his hands behind his back to disguise their trembling, biting back a yawn. He hadn’t been able to sleep much, knowing that Magnus was somewhere far beneath the castle, locked in the cold dungeons. He’d thought and thought and thought but hadn’t been able to come up with anything yet, despite his promise. He was running out of time. The trial was set for sundown.

“I was thinking, Alec.”

Maryse said, her voice calm. Alec held his breath.

“Perhaps you should stay away from the trial. I doubt it will be very long but I think you should stay as far away from that warlock as possible.”

His heart beat faster at the mention of Magnus.

“N-no. It’s okay.” He replied, quickly. “I want to see it…see him brought to justice.” The words tasted like ash on his tongue, his heart protesting against them.

She eyed him carefully as they walked.

“Well, if you’re sure…”

“If I’m going to be king one day I shouldn’t hide away like a coward.”

That seemed to placate her, and she smiled.

“Well then. I am proud of you, Alec. I hope you know that.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting to remain impassive. He’d been waiting for that his whole life, it seemed, her acceptance, her pride. Now it was bestowed upon a lie.

“Oh, Lydia!”

Her name startled him, he stopped and looked up. Her eyes met his, held his, while she greeted them both and bowed. She was with two ladies in waiting.

“Your majesty,” she began, interrupting his mother as she talked banally of the weather. “I do apologise, but I was wondering if I might take a turn with the Prince? I think it would be good if we spent some time together, before…”

Oh. Yes. Alec’s heart clenched. He’d forgotten, in his fear for Magnus, that his parents had decided on a wedding date for them. He supposed he should be glad of his distractions, his worries. If not for them he would surely be panicking of the thought of being married in less than a week.

Maryse looked slightly perturbed at being dismissed, but granted it.

“Of course, a good idea. I had better get back anyway, lots of preparations to oversee.

She left them then, and with a word Lydia dismissed her ladies. They fell into step together, leaving an appropriate space between them, crossing into the rose garden before she spoke.

“How is he?”

The image of Magnus flashed through his mind again, beaten, pale, chained to the wall of the cell. He didn’t think it would ever go away.

“He’s alive.” He breathed softly. He couldn’t give any more than that. “Thank you, Lydia.” He stopped her with a hand on her arm, gesturing to a small stone bench in front of a clear reflection pool. He made sure to keep one eye on the guards watching them from the other side of the garden. “Thank you for your help. I am forever in your debt, but…I can’t help thinking that it might have been futile, what you risked for me. I can’t think of anything, I - ”

He wrung his hands, allowing his façade to slip for a moment, his expression twisting, showing the pain beneath.

“Alec.”

“I don’t know what to do.” He whispered. “It’s wrong, he didn’t do anything, didn’t commit any crimes but - ”

“Alec.” She cut him off again. He looked up at her, her blue eyes shining with something like mischief. He’d seen that look in Isabelle’s eyes too many times before.

“I think I may have found something, last night. A way to help…possibly.”

He opened his mouth, wide-eyed, but no sound came out. She smiled slightly.

“I know it’s the lesson that most Elites fall asleep in, but History was always my favourite lesson…well, that and training, until I wasn’t allowed anymore. That’s actually how Isabelle and I became close. We trained together in secret.”

Alec felt the beginnings of a smile tug at his lips. Trust his sister to not only defy the rules herself, but to encourage others in doing it. He felt proud of her, not for the first time. He wondered where she was, for the guards had not yet been able to find her. He hoped that she was in Seelie still, and that she was safe.

“Anyway.” Lydia continued. “I don’t think we can break Magnus out of the dungeons, there are spells of containment there. And once it gets to trial, I doubt they’d listen to you and me if we spoke up. But…I remember my tutor telling me of a way that Shadowhunters used to communicate, back when we used runes. It’s called firemessage.”

A glimmer of recognition shot through him with the word, a memory of Magnus disappearing into his living room to message his warlock friends. He was sure that had been the same thing. A kindle of hope began to burn in his stomach, a flame that was quickly doused.

“But – we’d need a stele.” He thought longingly of the one that had been taken from him on arrival back at the castle. “We stole them once but I don’t doubt that my father - ”

“You family is not the only one who hoards relics.” Lydia said drily.

She shifted her skirts then, smiling coquettishly and leaning into him as though whispering a sweet nothing. Out of the corner of his eye Alec saw the guards tense, ready to intervene if they got too close, if they pushed the boundaries of propriety. He felt a small thin package pushed into the hand he’d rested on the bench, and quickly swept it under his tunic, heart beating fast, before she moved back and looked out towards the pool once again. She waved at the guards and he couldn’t help but grin. They could have been happy, he supposed. As friends joined in matrimony, never as lovers. But that would have been unfair, Alec reasoned, looking at her, at how her golden hair shone and her cheeks dimpled as she smiled. She deserved the chance at love, true love…and so did he. He hoped, at least, that they would always be friends. If by some stroke of luck everything turned out ok, he would be glad to have her advising in his court. He was ready…ready to break all the boundaries. Ready to show the world that change could be good.

 

.

Izzy and Simon had arrived in the village, and were relieved to find that the necklace worked, after they’d passed a werewolf and a horned warlock in the street and not been noticed. She’d been worried, after the compass hadn’t seemed to have been working that morning.

They made their way into the village centre, hoping to find a tavern or market where people might be talking, if anything bad had happened. Simon had been overwhelmed by everything he’d encountered in the shadow world so far, so he was used to it by this point. It was Izzy’s turn today; she’d met several downworlders now, and seen lots of Idris. But she’d never been in a downworlder village; they walked slowly, to make sure their footsteps made no sound, but also for her to look and take everything in.

It was no different from towns and villages in the south, she supposed, not that she’d seen many of those either. Her father had sent envoys to those places, when he’d needed, preferring to keep his family in the Palace. She’d never even been allowed in the city much…well, except for when she’d snuck out after dark. She wondered what it would be like, to live in a world in which she did not have to disguise, did not have to hide herself in order to walk through it. Perhaps that was too much to ask for.

The village centre was small but quaint, small town-style houses in various states of disrepair. Even so it was a jolly place, flowers in the windowsills and smiles on most of the inhabitants. She felt a pang as she compared it to the Palace, and its population. It was thought improper to smile like that, to laugh outside the ballroom, for females to walk around unescorted. She did, of course, never caring much for restrictive propriety. But if she hadn’t been royal, she’d have been shunned for it.

There was no market but they quickly found the local tavern, slipping in the door as a pair of Fae women walked out. _Nixies_ , she thought, of their smooth blonde hair and watery blue eyes.

Inside the tavern was warm, courtesy of the fire burning hot in the hearth. They both sighed in relief, the heat washing over their chilled skin.

“Quick, over here.” Isabelle whispered, pulling Simon into a corner. The tavern wasn’t that busy but she didn’t want somebody to accidently bump into them, and wonder why the space was solid.

They huddled in the corner and Simon was grateful that she’d chosen the one next to the fire. Though he hadn’t felt the cold too much outside, not walking next to Isabelle. The blood in his veins ran hot with half a thought of her. He was astounded he hadn’t passed out by now.

Her eyes were darting around, taking stock of the clientele. There were a mix of downworlders, some drinking, some eating, all talking. There were a few werewolves, a warlock or two, by indication of visible marks, and lots of Seelies. The talk was mostly unimportant, much to their dismay. They lingered a while but were just about to give up and move out of the tavern, aware of time running out, when something caught her ear.

“– trial is tonight.” One of the warlocks by the window was saving, gravely, to another unmarked downworlder, possibly a warlock, who looked concerned.

“What do you think will happen if he’s convicted?”

The first made a face, as Isabelle strained to hear them better.

“They’re asking for war just by trying him. Another warlock, yeah. Another crime, maybe. But Magnus Bane?”

Her blood froze, despite the heat still rolling off the fire.

“I heard that he’s not even guilty. There’s rumours that the Shadowhunter children went to him, for help, against Valentine.”

_Yes_ , Izzy thought. _That is what happened. Why a trial?!_

“The Shadowhunters have hated Magnus Bane for a long time. He’s always been more powerful than them. They hate that they were in his debt, from the last war. They’d be fools to let him live now they’ve got him.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and even Simon couldn’t suppress a soft gasp.

“Do you think they’d actually do it though?”

“I think they’ll try. But Bane has been slipping in and out of tight spots for centuries. He’ll be okay.”

Isabelle had heard enough, then. She tugged on Simon, pulling him after her out of the tavern, not caring to wait until the door was open for them. Let them think it was a gust of wind. Once outside she started running, careful to dodge round people but frantic and desperate. She barely understood what she’d heard. Magnus had been captured, but what of the others? Alec, Jace? Clary and Luke? Catarina? The vampires and Seelies? There had been no mention of them, but she couldn’t afford to hope. She had to do something. They had to do something, to save him.

“Izzy! Isabelle, wait!” Simon panted from behind her but she kept running, until they reached the outskirts of the village. There she ripped the necklace off and staggered away from him.

“Isabelle.” He said again, gently. “Look, we’ll go to this trial. We’ll convince them that he’s innocent.”

She shook her head before he finished speaking, collapsing onto a grassy knoll by the side of the dirt road.

“Alicante is a two day ride away.” Her words were barely audible.

“Well…they believed that he’d find a way out! Could he?”

She sighed, shaking her head again. “I don’t think so. There are anti-magic wards and protections. They’re new. My father…”

She trailed off, but he didn’t push it. He wracked his brain, coming up blank. He sat down next to her, carefully to leave some space in between them.

“I’m sorry.” He knew that wouldn’t solve anything, but he wanted to comfort her. Wanted to reach out, but he didn’t know how. He was tired and aching from being on the run and spending all night on the forest floor. He was still shaken from being kidnapped…from finding out that vampires exist, and so do werewolves, fairies, warlocks and half-angels, like the girl next to him. Still wrapping his head around this new world that he had stumbled into, and the fact that it was impossibly more complicated than it seemed already, the grey lines of good and evil blurring with every new thing he learned.

And magic – something ephemeral, indescribable. It was everywhere, he thought wryly, as he thought he saw of flash of something in the air beside them. He’d have to get used to it. He turned to Isabelle, to offer another poor attempt at comfort, perhaps, but before he could speak he noticed her holding a scrap of parchment, one that was smouldering at the edges. It certainly hadn’t been there a moment ago. And their bags were discarded a few feet away.

She swallowed, hands trembling slightly.

“What is it?” He dared to ask. Something good, or something bad? It seemed like a game of chance sometimes. You win and you escape – for now – or you lose and you will most certainly die.

“A – a message.” Her voice shook, like he’d never heard it before. “A fire message.” She breathed, before he could ask. “From Alec.” She scanned the note, once, twice, and he waited with bated breath until she looked up at him, a wide grin on her face.

“Come on.” She jumped up, sliding the scrap into a pocket inside her cloak. He scrambled to follow her.

“Where are we going?”

She pointed towards the village they had just run from, starting to stride towards it, purposeful.

“Wait – don’t we need the necklace?”

She threw a beaming grin over her shoulder, white pearly teeth sparkling.

“Nope.”

 

_._

This was the part of the plan that he was dreading most.

After the possible failure of stopping Magnus’s trial, of course.

It was just after lunch and it was time for his sparring lesson. It had taken some convincing for his father to rescind Jace’s room arrest, just for an hour, but all his best knights were away looking for Isabelle and there was no-one else for Alec to practice with, no-one else who could match him. It was under the condition that guards be present the whole time, and that Jace returned to his room after, but Alec could work with that. He just needed to get close to him.

He entered the room to see his brother already there, flanked by two palace guards. Alec gulped as his scowl was noticeable even from the distance they were at. He strode in, avoiding Jace’s hard gaze as he selected two wooden practice swords from the rack, throwing one to him. Jace caught it and they got into position, the guards watching avidly. He sank into a defensive stance, preparing himself for the inevitable blow. And when it came, it was quite a blow. They’d never gone easy on each other whilst training, but Alec could tell that Jace was angry with him, possibly angrier than he’d ever been before as the force of the blow he landed shook Alec to his core. He gritted his teeth and pushed back, retaliating with a blow of his own – low, aimed at the knees.  Jace’s sword whipped down to catch it, and Alec took advantage of their position, their heads close together, lips hidden from the watchful eye’s around the room.

“I have a plan.”

He didn’t have time to say more than that, already moving into the next sequence. Jace’s expression flickered but other than that, he gave no indication that he had heard Alec. They circled and spun, swords clashing violently. The next time their heads were close, he chanced whispering again.

“I didn’t sell him out, Jace.”

It was meant as a placation, an explanation, but if anything it made Jace angrier. His blows were harder, his movements quicker, more aggressive as he backed Alec into a corner. When they were at the edge of the training ring, furthest away from the guards, he spoke.

“It certainly looked like it from where I was standing. Still does.” He spat, before backing off, returning to a beginning stance in the middle.

Alec sighed, moving after him. A few quick and calculated movements later he’d forced their swords into a cross, grasping Jace’s forearm as they struggled.

“I had to lie!” He was desperate for Jace to believe him. He needed a back-up plan, just in case… “What good would it have done if we were both locked up?”

They moved again, careful not to raise suspicion. Jace feinted to one side, managing to duck underneath Alec’s sword as it slashed through the air, knocking his feet out from under him, pinning him down. He raised his eyebrows, now looking frustrated instead of angry. Alec supposed it was a good sign.

“I went to see him. He’s okay. Lydia and I have a plan.” He twisted out from under Jace, jumping to his feet and going on the offensive.

He managed to explain, in bits and pieces, through their sparring. How Lydia had explained how to send a firemessage. How he’d written notes to anyone he thought could help; Catarina, Tessa, Luke, Izzy, wherever she was. He’d told them not to write back, he couldn’t risk it being intercepted or appearing in front of him while he wasn’t alone in the castle. He’d prayed that the messages reached them, but he’d had to talk to Jace just in case. He made his way back to his rooms to wash, sweating after their long hour training, while Jace had requested an audience with his father. He would apologise and grovel, and ask to be taken to the trial that evening. If granted, and no-one showed up to help, Alec prayed that the combined protests of himself, Lydia and Jace might be enough to make the jury pause, to sway them from the sentence of death.

It wasn’t a fool proof plan by any means, but it was the best he had. He just hoped beyond hope that it might work. He couldn’t imagine what might happen if it didn’t.

He was also grateful, for the first time in his life, of the pride of the Nephilim. The trial would be held in the courthouse, which was a little ways away from the Palace, toward the city centre. Had it been held in the castle there would have been no chance of outside intervention, due to the wards that had been put around it. But the shadowhunters never imagined the possibility of downworlders daring to interrupt a trial, to impede justice. Tessa and Catarina would be able to portal straight into it, if they’d received his message, if they would risk it.

He washed off the sweat from his training session and sent a silent prayer up to the angels. Perhaps one of them was listening.

 

.

Magnus was jerked awake when heavy footsteps echoed through the dungeons.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, but the exhaustion and lack of water – not to mention the heavy black iron around his wrists draining his magic – had taken its toll. He had been wavering in and out of consciousness since that morning, he’d guess, not that he could tell what time it was.

It was a twilight hell – not that he’d ever actually been there, but he’d wager a bet that it was more pleasant than the dungeon underneath the Palace. The only thing that had sustained him was Alec – foolishly so, a little voice told him. But he granted himself that one small thing. If he were to die soon, he wouldn’t waste any more moments trying to suppress what he felt for Alec, or feel any shame over it.

When his eyes drifted closed, grimacing against the sharp pain in his wrists, the aches on his body where he’d been punished for not giving information, not confessing the lies they’d wanted from him, he saw Alec. Alexander, and how his cheeks flushed when he called him that. Saw his face soften when Magnus smiled at him, almost involuntarily, then he’d catch himself and look away, but his eyes would inevitably dart back to Magnus. He held him there, in his mind and in his heart, letting the feeling fill him, letting it chase away the pain.

When he heard the footsteps, he knew. It was time. Alec would have done his best, he had no doubt. But he was young, barely out of adolescence, one voice against a thousand who would stand by and watch him die.

He held it there, his dream, what they might have been, in a different world. And he smiled, as the guards came into view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trial. Dun dun dun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day late but trust me, its worth it! This needed the time and care ;)
> 
> I kind of like Fridays though. I think Friday might be my new update day. I think I can promise somewhere between Thursday - Saturday anyway.

Alec stood in the front row of the courthouse beside his parents, waiting for the crowd outside to fill the benches behind him, trying to stop his whole body from shaking.

It was time. Whatever happened now they could not return from. He kept up a mantra in his head, to the angels whose blood ran in his veins, that his plan would work. That they could save Magnus. There was no alternative he could live with.

It seemed as though the whole of Alicante had turned out for this, last minute though it had been. He could hear the buzzing of conversation behind him growing louder as more and more shadowhunters filed in. This was the place to be tonight, it seemed. It was a first, in his lifetime at least. A warlock – and one of Magnus Bane’s stature no less – tried for crimes against the shadowhunters who ruled supreme (or so they believed)? He was certain that most of the crowd came merely for the gossip they would spread after. He felt a wave of hatred to all those who thought to make a spectacle of Magnus’s suffering.

He focused his gaze on the raised dais at the front of the courthouse, trying to tune out the voices behind him. It was a stage or sorts, which was sickening in of itself. There were two podiums, one on each side, where the prosecution and the defendant would stand. The judge’s box stood behind them and directly in the middle was a wooden pole with chains attached. Where Magnus would stand, like a common criminal. Alec couldn’t help but think that this would not run like a normal trial, not that he’d attended many in his life.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It was a struggle not to look behind him to catch Jace’s eye, where he was sat flanked by guards, not to look up to where Lydia sat with other young ladies of the Elite, in the viewing gallery. He had to trust that everything was in place. He had to trust that everything would turn out okay.

It seemed that an age passed while he stood there, focusing on breathing in and out, watching the dancing sunbeams on the floor he stared at growing dimmer and dimmer until they disappeared. Sundown, at last. It would soon begin.

As though by clockwork a sharp crack sounded, echoing through the cavernous room. The chatter ceased immediately and all eyes were on the Judge’s box at the back of the dais where Inquisitor Aldertree now stood, in the flowing black robes and red insignia of the clave. Alec’s heart was in his mouth as he sat alongside his parents and a door to the side opened.

Magnus looked a thousand times worse than he had last night. Alec’s heart throbbed painfully as he was led forward – though _dragged_ might be a better word. Magnus was barely able to support himself, his head hanging as the guards on either side of him secured his chains to the post in the middle and retreated to the sides, their hands on the pommels of their swords.

Magnus’s face was pale and wan, his eyes hollow and dull. Clearly they hadn’t given him anymore food, or water. Alec bit his lip hard to control himself, to stop himself from running to him that instant. The only thing that had changed was his clothes – they had put him into a plain but clean tunic and trousers, but that did nothing to hide the mistreatment he’d gone through. Anger pulsed through his veins, hot and sharp, fuelling his hatred towards the shadowhunters who had done this, fuelling his need for action, for retribution.

A second crack echoed once Magnus was in place, Aldertree’s lined, narrowed eyes taking in the courtroom before him.

“We shall begin.”

Alec tried to listen to the charges that were read out but they were white noise, buzzing around him. Magnus had found the strength to lift his head, seemingly searching for something…someone…

Their eyes met and his lips parted, something like relief flashing across his face. Alec let out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding since Magnus had been brought in. He scanned his face, drinking him in. His high cheekbones, his gold-green eyes, the dark shadow of hair that had begun to grow around his mouth and along his jaw. He was beautiful, still beautiful, he wanted to tell him.

 _Please don’t look so sad,_ he willed his eyes to say.

Magnus’s gaze was heartbreaking, open and earnest, he was looking at Alec as though he’d never get to see him again.

 _Please don’t look at me like that_ , Alec begged silently. _We will have time, so much more time…I promise…_

But he couldn’t. He could only wish, hope, pray.

“Will anybody speak for the accused?”

He tuned back into Aldertree’s voice in shock; how they were already at this part of the trial? There was no official prosecution, and that spoke volumes. He held his breath – this was the first part of their plan, and he prayed that he’d put his trust in the right people.

“I will.”

A strong, clear voice rang out and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t have to turn, as many shadowhunters did in confusion, to see the owner of that voice.

Whispers buzzed around him as Lydia stood and made her way down the stairs from the gallery into the main courtroom, up to the dais. She stood tall behind the podium to the left of Magnus, narrowing her eyes at the disapproving gazes on her. he caught some of the whispers; _inappropriate…the Prince’s fiancée…is this allowed?_

“My name is Lydia Marie Branwell.” She spoke out with confidence.

Magnus’s eyes rose as realisation flashed across his face. He glanced at Alec and Alec couldn’t help but give him a small smile. He would explain all later, hopefully, but for now he hoped that was enough.

“I am the only child of Lord Hector Branwell,” she continued “heir to the Branwell estate and betrothed to your future King. I am eighteen years of age and educated in our laws and litigation.” She raised her pointed chin, as though challenging them to defy her. She looked every bit a Queen. “I am authorized to defend the accused by all the requirements laid out in our constitution.”

Alec didn’t have to look at his father to know that he was furious. He kept his gaze steadily focused on the dais, on Lydia and Magnus. She was right, she was able to defend him. No-one had expected her to, but by law, they could not intervene. They would have to let the trial play out, in a different way than they had wanted. Alec wasn’t delusional, neither he nor Lydia had planned to change the course of Magnus’s sentence. They hadn’t hoped for that much. All this was, was a distraction. They needed to let the trial play out for as long as possible, so that hopefully, help would arrive. And in the meantime, Lydia would sow the seeds for uncertainty. They knew that not all shadowhunters thought so low of downworlders as his parents and most of the Clave did. Especially the younger generation. She had already reached out to many of them, he knew, as had Jace, while he had been sending the firemessages.

“This trial is uncalled for.” Lydia began, folding her hands upon the podium. “There is np physical evidence that Magnus Bane took hostages against their will, and even if he had, that would not have been grounds to hold him in the palace dungeons until this trial.”

There was an outcry at that, clearly this was not widely known. A sharp rapping silenced them.

“If I may, Miss Branwell.” Aldertree’s voice was hard. “You know that was a necessity. The holding cells here are not equipped to neutralise magic.”

“His magic should not have had to be neutralised.” Lydia shot back. She turned to the courtroom again. “Look what has become of our treaty. Where is the trust, between shadowhunters and downworlders? We share this world, this land. No we are not the same, but that cannot be said of any two people. We should not be discriminated against for what we are born as. We should be judged only by how we choose to live our lives. I know that none of us were alive during the Mortal War, but…” she glared around the room. “We all know this history. We all know that without this man,” she gestured to Magnus. “None of us would likely be here.”

She paused then, but no-one spoke. Alec still didn’t dare look. He could feel the cold tension pulsing from his parents, and hoped that Lydia’s words were enough to make the jury pause, if not change their minds.

“With that said,” she continued. “I implore you to think before you act. Magnus Bane, like all downworlders, is an equal, not a subjugate.”

She stepped back and the whispers started up again, louder than before. Alec hoped she hadn’t gone too far; she was after all, speaking to a room full of Elites. Most of them didn’t think that other shadowhunters were equal to them, let alone downworlders.

Aldertree rapped for silence again.

“Thank you, Miss Branwell, for your eloquence and idealism.”

 _Okay. This wasn’t good._ Alec thought.

“But one good deed a hundred years ago is not enough to excuse future misdemeanours, particularly ones that threaten our leaders. Treason, not matter who it comes from, will not be pardoned. I suggest that you yourself should tread carefully.”

 _Very not good. Help around now would be great._ He bit his lip hard. This time, he tasted blood. Whatever happened today, he didn’t think the wedding would be going ahead.

“I ask now for the jury’s decision.”

Alec tensed in his seat. This wasn’t normal. Where was the time for deliberation? They needed more time…

But it was a minute, that was all they got. A minute before the twelve grey-haired Elite turned to the dais and gave their unanimous decision.

_Guilty._

The word reverberated through Alec, piercing him, a thousand burning hot needles in his ice cold skin. He was on his feet before he knew it.

“ _NO!_ ”

His feet carried him forwards, his arms reaching out to Magnus but they never touched him; he was pulled back by two burly guards before he could reach the dais, his arms were twisted and pinned behind his back, his head was spinning.

“ _Alexander._ ”

Robert’s voice was cold, furious. Maryse looked alarmed, her hands over her mouth, and several other shadowhunters had risen. Alec didn’t see them though, didn’t care. He struggled against the hands restraining him, desperate. He almost didn’t hear Aldertree over the noise in his head.

“The accused has been found guilty. Magnus Bane is sentenced to execution. Take him away.”

His heart thudded painfully as Magnus’s eyes closed, pained etched in every line upon his face, his lips trembling. The guards who’d brought him in started toward him. The voices in the hall rose, everyone talking over each other. Then…

_“STOP!”_

 

.

The streets were busier the second time Isabelle and Simon entered the village. It was late afternoon and the winter sun was hanging low in the sky. People stopped and stared as they flew past, she was a spectacle in her leather fighting gear even without the presence of runes on her skin.

She could hear Simon’s feet hitting the road behind her, they’d left their packs by the side of the road but there was no time to go back for them. They were running out of time. She skidded to a halt in front of the tavern they’d been in, wrenching the door open and bursting inside.

Silence fell as the occupants all regarded her, her black hair blowing in the wind, eyes burning with desperation. She ignored the exclamations, searching for the two warlocks who had been speaking about Magnus. Their table was empty.

“Please!” She grasped the edge of the bar, leaning towards the man behind it, who was frozen in the act of wiping a glass. “Do you know where those men went? There were sitting there earlier, by the window. Two warlocks…”

He shook himself, somewhat dazed. No-one else spoke, all attention still on Izzy, and on Simon, who was lingering awkwardly by the open door. No-one complained about the gusts of icy air whooshing in.

“Y-yes. They – they just left.”

She gasped, feeling a spark of hope. “Which way did they go?”

He pointed wordlessly and she was spun, grabbing Simon by the arm and pulling him with her.

They raced out of the pub and turned right, down a road that led further in the village. She slowed, scanning the faces one by one, until…

“There! Hey, excuse me!”

The warlocks paused and they reached them, confusion on their faces turning to shock as they took in the shadowhunter and mundane before them.

“Yes?” The elder of the two asked, folding his arms.

“We need a portal to Alicante.” Isabelle burst out, and his frown deepened.

“I’m afraid we cannot help you, miss. Good-day.”

“Wait!” She grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. “We need to be there. We need to rescue Magnus Bane.”

They stopped, turning to regard her again, a different kind of shock etched upon their faces.

“Come with us.” He said after a moment.

He turned abruptly and led them down a side street, away from the curious eyes of the people on the busy street. They followed the warlocks through a maze of increasingly thin alleyways until they reached a small blue door at the end of one. It was unmarked and without a keyhole, but opened when the warlock waved a hand. He ushered them inside.

Inside it was dark, and Izzy couldn’t help but put a hand on the knife she had sheathed at her thigh. Suddenly there was light, and she saw that they were in a small kitchen, decorated colourfully and illuminated by candles.

“You don’t need to worry.” The younger warlock said his eyes on her weapons. “Most folk here might not like shadowhunters but any friend of Magnus is a friend of ours.”

Simon breathed a sigh of relief and Izzy relaxed but kept her hand near her knife.

“I’d be more worried about him, though, if I were you.” The elder spoke from where he’d leaned against the stove in the corner, nodding his head toward Simon. “Bringing a mundane into Alicante is risky business, even if you are the princess.”

She recoiled, eyes widening. Simon looked between them, his gaze going back and forth.

“How did you know?”

“Guesswork.” He grinned toothily. “There aren’t any runed shadowhunters anymore, unless you count that infernal army of your fathers. And none others that would be racing to rescue Bane, if the stories of your adventures are to be believed.”

“I guess they are.” She regarded them both. “So can you help? We need to be there tonight.”

“Warlocks don’t usually do anything for free.”

“I – we don’t have any money.” She cursed herself for leaving their packs by the side of the road. They would surely be gone by now.

He raised his chin, studying her.

“I said usually, and especially not for a shadowhunter. But…I do owe Bane a favour or two.”

“Really?!” She felt relief coursing through her veins. “Thank you, thank you so much. I won’t forget this, and I will repay you someday.”

He smiled. “Be careful making deals with magic makers, princess. I might just hold you to that.”

She grinned, and held her hand out for him to shake it.

“So.” Simon spoke up, tentatively. “What’s a portal?”

 

.

 

 

“So _that’s_ a portal.”

Simon gasped, doubling over, staggering as his feet hit solid ground. He felt as though he’d stepped into a tornado, flown round it upside down, and been spit out the other side. He grimaced, trying to supress the urge to throw up.

“Yep.” Isabelle had landed neatly on her feet, of course, and reached out to steady him. “Are you okay? Because we sort of need to hurry.”

Dusk had nearly fallen but by the grace of the warlock who’d helped them they’d been transported instantly to a small cobblestone road on the other side of the country. Rising to his feet, leaning heavily on Isabelle, Simon gasped as he took in the view before him.

“Welcome to Alicante.” Izzy smiled ruefully. It was an impressive city, she knew. But she held no love for it tonight. Not until Magnus had been cleared and freed. “Can you walk?”

Simon nodded and she slipped the necklace over them both before they began the short trek into town.

It would have been better to be portalled right beside the courthouse but certain wards on Alicante prevented that. It wasn’t far however, and she knew her city like the back of her own hand.

They took care to keep the necklace around them, although the streets were empty as they ran through. It seemed that everyone was at the trial, Izzy thought. Dusk had fallen by the time they got there and her heart is beating fast, she just hopes that they aren’t too late.

They skid to a halt in front of the courthouse, a huge imposing building second only to the castle which stands on a hill in the West of Alicante, looking out over the city. She rips the necklace off as they throw themselves against the doors, not giving the guards outside time to react.

Everything froze as the doors banged against the walls and silence fell as Izzy ran into the hall with Simon behind her, out of breath.

She stopped in the middle, panting and looking around her, taking in the scene.

Half of the shadowhunters on the benches were stood, Alec was being held by two guards, Magnus was chained up on the dais, and was that Lydia? At the podium?!

She walked forward, swallowing her relief. Clearly, she’d come just in time.

“Isabelle.”

Maryse stepped forward, her hand out in shock.

She merely nodded at her mother and kept on walking, until she was standing in front of the dais. She pulled Simon to stand beside her, not trusting that he’d be safe otherwise.

“What are you doing?” She asked, softly. Then, louder. “What are you all doing? Are you content to subject an innocent man to death, merely for fear of his power? Jealousy? The need to establish your dominance?”

“Isabelle Lightwood.” Inquisitor Aldertree’s voice boomed out, interrupting her. “This trial is over, the jury has spoken.”

She turned to him, and even Simon felt like recoiling from the fire in her eyes.

“It is Your Highness, Inquisitor. And I demand,” she looked toward the guards holding Alec. “That you release my brother at once. And then Magnus.” She held her fingers up, as though ticking off a list. “And then we are going to leave, and you are going to let us.”

“Isabelle.”

Robert growled. His face had turned a dark share of red, but his eyes were as cold as ice.

“You are making a spectacle of yourself.”

She laughed. “No father, this whole trial is a spectacle. Of you.”

“She’s right!”

Jace’s voice shouted out.

“I oppose the jury.”

Robert turned to him. “You cannot oppose the jury. You cannot impede justice.”

“On the contrary, Robert.” He elbowed the guards away from him and jumped into the aisle, going to stand by Izzy. “You are impeding justice.”

He turned away from them then, his children, and looked toward the Inquisitor.

“Take him away.”

“NO!” Alec shouted out straining against his captors.

“I oppose the jury!”

Another voice called out, this one lighter but no less confident than Jace’s. Scanning the upper gallery Izzy caught the gaze of Aline Penhallow, a distant cousin of theirs.

“I oppose the jury!”

Next to her, Helen Blackthorn, a good friend.

“I oppose the jury!”

Jon Cartwright, who’d often duelled with them.

“I oppose the jury!”

Beatriz Mendoza, a girl whom Isabelle had always found to be dreary.

“I oppose the jury!”

John Monteverde, a handsome young captain in the army.

They kept on standing up, the young generation of shadowhunters, the future. Perhaps there was hope after all. They were so concentrated on their unexpected allies that they didn’t notice the magical commotion behind them.

“Goodness gracious, Magnus. What have you gotten yourself into now?”

 

.

Alec wanted to cry when the portal he’d been waiting for finally appeared, spilling out Catarina, Tessa, Luke and Clary, and a male warlock he recognised from paintings in history books. Magnus’s old companion, Ragnor Fell. He was well known to be a recluse, Alec hadn’t even thought about firemessaging him. Clary and Luke immediately ran to Simon and Isabelle, embracing them.

“ _Ragnor._ ” Magnus breathed, looking like a man who’d just been given a new life. Which, Alec supposed, he had. “ _Catarina. Tessa._ How..?”

Tessa grinned. “You’ll have to thank your shadowhunter for that.”

Magnus looked back to Alec, awe and gratitude shining on his face.

A sharp rapping sounded once, twice, three times.

“Order!” The Inquisitor shouted. He looked beyond furious now, as he took in the new arrivals. “It is against protocol to interrupt a legal proceeding, not to mention breaking the wards for…that!”

Catarina raised an eyebrow.

“Then I suppose you’d be happier if we left now.”

She waved a hand and Magnus’s chains fell away, freeing him. Another wave and the guards holding Alec yanked their hands off him, as though they had been burned.

Ragnor pulled his arms up and a wall of blue flame rose between them and the rest of the courtroom, the portal sparkling in the middle. Alec ran to Magnus as soon as he was free and the warlock collapsed into his arms, grasping onto him.

“Alexander.” He murmured, his eyes growing soft but intense. “You did it.”

“I had some help.” He murmured back, clinging to him as though Magnus were holding him up, not the other way around.

Alec felt like his body was on fire, he was burning in every place that Magnus was touching him. Electricity hummed between them, anticipation coiling in his gut. Magnus was pale, weak, bare-faced…but he had never looked so beautiful. His lips were parted as he gazed at Alec, wonder in his eyes and the distance between them physically hurt. Their breath mixed and Alec’s heart thudded painfully as he hesitated.

It felt as though he was only just realising, now that he had Magnus in his arms, just how scared he had been. How he had nearly lost him, lost the chance to have this, to hold him, to feel him…

It wasn’t a decision, it was never a conscious thought. It wasn’t the time, nor the place. But none of that mattered. They were here, now, and Alec couldn’t stand to waste another moment. They were opposite poles of a magnet, pulling each other in, unable to resist, unwilling to try and fight it.

Magnus’s eyes held his until the last possible moment, the question in them burning bright. Alec answered by allowing his to close, eliminating the remaining space between them. He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped as their lips brushed, before folding inevitably together.

The courtroom around them fell away, Alec was no longer aware of anything but Magnus. The muscles in Magnus’s back were warm under his hands, through the thin material of his tunic. Magnus’s hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. Magnus’s lips, sliding against his own. Opening up, the heat of his mouth drawing him in, tasting him.

Kissing Magnus was excruciating, in the best way possible. It was drowning in the deep ocean, the air he drew in stolen straight from his lungs. It was burning in the midst of a forest fire, searing hotter and brighter with every gentle flick of tongue against his. It was jumping off a cliff with his eyes closed, an exhilarating rush, trusting Magnus to break his fall.

He pulled away only when his lungs were screaming, demanding oxygen. He didn’t think he could have, otherwise. If not for the need to breathe, he could have kissed Magnus forever.

He gasped in air, his heart thundering in his chest. He was sure that Magnus could hear it, if not see it. Their eyes locked when Magnus’s fluttered open, and Alec was relieved to see the same shock, the same raw vulnerability he knew was in his eyes reflected back at him.

He was jolted out of the moment with a familiar hand on his arm, and wrenched his gaze away from Magnus to meet Jace’s.

“Alec. We need to go now.”

Jace’s voice was apologetic but firm, and his brain caught up then, remembered the situation around them. He flushed, feeling the colour creep up his cheeks. He dropped his hands from where they’d come to rest on Magnus’s waist and turned away, swallowing. Through the barrier of blue fire he could see every eye trained on him, including his parents. He held their gaze for a moment, in defiance that he didn’t truly feel as his hands shook. His father was first to break it, turning to stride out of the courthouse without a word. His mother wasn’t far behind.

The Inquisitor spoke up, his voice slightly muffled from the barrier between them,

“If you go with these criminals, I will have no choice but to class you as such. You will not be able to return here.”

Alec shook his head, a numbness settling over his body.

“I have no wish to return to a place, to a people who would do what was almost done here today.” He turned to the courtroom again. “We are leaving. We are going to fight a real enemy, one who was once our own. One who would kill you without a second thought if you stand in his way. We are fighting. To save us all. If that means we cannot return, then so be it.”

And with that he turned away, towards the portal, towards freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ???
> 
> This was v.exciting to write. I think I'm even more excited to write the aftermath though. How's Alec gonna handle it? Because it was kind of a spur of the moment sort of thing.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Safety (for now). Light angst. But also fluff. Much fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm a little late. I blame the anticipation for 2x18 entirely. I may or may not have spent an embarrassing amount of time watching and re-watching that sneak peek, and crying a little. Or a lot. If I die after seeing the whole episode at least I've got this far with this story. Hope you enjoy :) :) :)

Three things hit Alec the moment he steps out of the portal.

The first was the quiet. A stark opposite to the commotion and clamour that they’d left behind in the courtroom. The second was the open space. The green around them, the fresh air that filled his lungs. And the third, the third was that he was still joined to Magnus, hand in hand. His relief at their successful escape was short-lived as the warlock stumbled, his grace deserting him in his exhaustion. Alec reacted without thinking, grasping onto him, supporting him.

“He needs to rest.”

The warlock called Ragnor appeared beside them as the portal winked out of existence, having delivered their little band of rebels to safety. “He’s burnt out, magic and energy. That’s dangerous, for a warlock.”

Fear shot through him and Magnus’s head dropped, his eyes closing.

“What will happen?”

“His magic will try to heal him, taking more energy. Energy that he doesn’t have right now.” Catarina was in front of them now, gentle hands lifting Magnus’s head, inspecting him. “He’ll be fine, he just needs sleep and a potion I can whip up in no time. We’ll take it from here Alec, thanks.”

He reluctantly relinquished Magnus to their arms, watching helplessly as they disappeared into the house he hadn’t noticed in front of him. He took it in now, as his siblings came to stand beside him.

“Bit understated, isn’t it?” Jace joked.

It was huge and sprawling, a dark shadow rising up before them. It looked like something from a different land, not belonging in Idris. It must have been inspired by lands outside, Alec thought as he appraised the spiralling turrets, balconies and verandas that jutted out from great sets of doors seemingly set haphazardly into the sides of the house. This was much more along the lines of what he expected a Warlock’s house to look like.

They entered at Tessa’s beckoning into a hallway that was dimly lit with torches. He couldn’t help but shiver, reminded of the torchlit corridors that had led down to Magnus’s cell. He wondered where they had taken him, and if he would truly be alright. If not, everything would have been for naught. He would have failed.

He was broken out of his thoughts as they entered a large reception room, the cosy mismatched chairs and sofas looking out of place compared to the rest of the dark décor. He sat on one heavily, feeling the exhaustion of the day creeping in.  He leaned into Izzy as she sat next to him, relieving in her comfort.

“He’ll be okay, big brother.” She murmured, warming one of his cold hands in hers.

“I’m glad you’re back.” He said, in reply. “Thank you for coming.”

She smiled. “It was nothing. It was all the other guys, anyway.”

Alec shook his head but looked around the rest of the group, the people who had answered his call for help. Shadowhunters, warlocks, a werewolf, even a mundane. He couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming gratitude, not only for their help in the rescue, but in the success they’d had in working together. That more than anything, would be how they’d defeat Valentine, if it was possible.

“Thank you. Thank you all.” His voice trembled, but still he couldn’t convey the extent of the gratitude he felt. If not for them…he didn’t want to imagine.

“I think perhaps, we could all do with a good night’s sleep?” Tessa suggested, smiling softly at them all. Clary was sandwiched between Jace and Simon, holding both of their hands. All three of them were suppressing yawns, and Luke didn’t look much better.

It was funny, Alec thought, as he sat on the bed in the room he’d been led to, just how exhausting adventures were. Even in periods of rest, as they were in now, adrenaline pumped through his veins, and a thousand thoughts were flashing through his mind. He couldn’t turn them off, no matter how much he tried. There was still so much to do, still so much he had no idea how to do. But all of that took a backseat to thoughts of Magnus.

Now that he was alone, finally, he had time to process what had happened. The kiss.

He’d known that he was attracted to men for a while now, years. He’d pictured it in his mind a thousand times, what it might be like to act upon those desires, to give in to what he wanted. He didn’t know if it was partially the fact that he never thought that he would ever act on them, that it had been so visceral an experience, or if it was just Magnus. This attraction between them. He didn’t even know what it was, exactly. What they were. All he knew was that he wanted to find out.

 

.

The slivers of sunlight that snaked through the gaps in the heavy velvet drapes were what woke Alec in the morning.

He stretched leisurely, feeling the soreness of the last few days settling into his muscles. Stress was exhausting. But the bed was so comfortable that it hadn’t taken him long to fall asleep, despite all that was on his mind. He’d slept through the night it seemed, for the first time in a long time.

He dressed quickly, hurrying down the stairs to search for some information about Magnus. He wasn’t the first one up, but that didn’t surprise him. The sun wasn’t high in the sky yet but it had long passed dawn.

Izzy was perched on a chair in the dining room with Tessa and Catarina, the remains of breakfast on plates in front of them. She beamed as he entered, drawing out the chair beside her and patting on it. He moved to sit, touching her shoulder in greeting and turning to the two warlocks.

“Is Magnus - ”

“He’s fine.” Tessa smiled, her youthful face soft and gentle. “He hasn’t woken yet but that’s no surprise. He’s just rebuilding his energy, and healing his wounds.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, though a vestige of worry remained. It would only disappear when he saw him, he knew, up and well once more, the Magnus that he knew.

“We should go and check on him, though.” Tessa continued, rising from her chair and pulling Catarina with her. “I’ll let you know as soon as he wakes.”

“Thank you.” Alec watched as the two women left the room and he was alone with Izzy.

“So.” She grinned, turning to face him. “You and Magnus?”

He flushed, staring down at the table, but couldn’t help a little smile.

“I guess. But we haven’t…talked or anything...so I don’t know…”

Izzy huffed, interrupting him.

“Alec. You do know. We all know. He’s crazy about you. And, might I add, I’m so proud of you?! We were close to taking out bets, you know, on when you’d finally do it, but I don’t think any of us would have guessed such a badass way.”

He grinned in spite of himself.

“I don’t think I would have either. It just sort of happened.”

“Well, there’s no way our parents can try to deny it or cover it up now. Way to go.”

“I didn’t do it for that.” Alec protested, though he was glad that she was right.

“I know, I know. But I also think it’s going to help others, your being so public with it.”

“What do you mean?” Alec was confused.

“Oh come on Alec, do you think you’re the only gay shadowhunter?”

He flinched a little at the word, but was surprised when no wave of shame followed it. There was only warmth, and pride. He didn’t have to hide any more. He never would again.

“Not only will it help erase the barrier between us and downworlders, but I bet there are others right now considering coming out or feeling like they might be able to one day because of you.”

He squirmed, contemplating her words. He’d never thought of it like that. But if that were true, then that was wonderful. And he’d unknowingly taken a huge step toward the kind of transparency and openness he’d implement when (IF) he became King.

But there was a lot riding on that. He wouldn’t put it past his father to disown him. Perhaps he already had. But that was a concern for another day.

“What about you, Iz? What happened after we left you?”

She smiled, looking down.

“That’s a story…”

The dining room slowly filled up as more of their motley crew woke, and Jace took it upon himself to find food for them all as Izzy told him what had occurred in the Seelie Court, and out of it. She showed them all the gifts from the Queen, and Alec felt more optimistic than ever. Even if they failed (and he really hoped they didn’t) they’d begun to form ties and relationships with all of the downworld. He only hoped that it would continue.

_._

As eager as Alec was for Magnus to wake, he had to wait.

Tessa and Catarina checked on him every few hours and told him the same thing, where he was hovering near the top of the staircase.

He could have gone in, but he didn’t think he could face it.

The Magnus he’d seen the past few days was burned into his mind, licks of pain curling around his heart as he pictured it. His pale skin, the exhaustion and defeat in his eyes, the bruises… he didn’t know if he could handle seeing Magnus so weak again, so beaten. When it was all his fault.

He didn’t know what he would say to him, when he woke. He would apologise, that was for sure. But for what first? For leading him to his torture and almost to his death, however inadvertent? For leaving him in that cold, dark cell overnight, not being able to save him without help? For kissing him, in front of everybody, for not being able to hold back? For not asking him what he wanted? If it was okay?

He knew that Magnus had been flirting with him for a while now. He knew there was an attraction between them. But as the hours passed he felt more and more guilty. What if it hadn’t been what Magnus had wanted? What if he had crossed a line?

He didn’t have too long to stew in his worries, though.

In Magnus’s absence Ragnor took charge, calling them all a large reception room at the back of his house to talk about what happened next. It was all dark panels and chandeliers, with a huge bay window that looked over his gardens and beyond that, the sea. Alec realised that they were on the south coast of Idris, only about an hour’s ride outside of Alicante. He wondered how strong the wards were that his family hadn’t known of this house, and he wondered how long it had been there.

They sat at the large round table in the centre of the room. It reminded Alec of his father’s war-room, though it was significantly more welcoming. Tessa began, once they were all there. Alec, Isabelle, Jace, Clary, Luke, Ragnor, Catarina and Simon.

“So.” She regarded them all, looking every bit a queen amongst her subjects. Alec wondered, not for the first time, why it was shadowhunters who ruled Idris.

“We haven’t exactly had a chance to talk since my rescue, which, by the way, thank you.” She smiled at them, her gaze resting on Jace a moment longer. Alec had forgotten that they were technically related. She sure didn’t look like Jace’s great-great-whatever-grandmother, though.

“Valentine wanted the mortal cup, as I’m sure you were aware.”

“He doesn’t have it though, does he?” Luke was frowning, and was cut a glare by Isabelle.

“Not that any of us would blame you for telling him. His methods…” She shivered, breaking off.

“I didn’t tell him.” Tessa confirmed. “I would have though, I was almost at that point. It wouldn’t have mattered though, I’m sure he’s figured it out by now.”

“How?” Ragnor was frowning. “No-one but you and William knew of its whereabouts.”

“No.” Tessa agreed. “But there are other ways of tracking that which leaves a strong magical footprint, so to speak. And he has warlocks in this thrall.”

“So we should retrieve it before he does, right?” Jace leaned forward.

“We could try. But even if he does find where it is, he will not be able to retrieve it.”

“What do you mean?” Alec spoke up for the first time, confused. She looked at him, something he couldn’t decipher in her calm grey eyes.

“It has stronger magic protecting it than that I laid upon it. My husband and I charmed it together.”

“Is that possible?” Izzy asked, the surprise that Alec felt in her voice. “He was..”

“A shadowhunter, yes.” Tessa confirmed. “But you do have magic, it is only different from ours. We loved each other, and that was a magic in itself. We knew that it could be used to break apart all we risked to save this world, and that it would only be done so in pursuit of hate. To counter that, the charm we laid will only reveal the cup to those of heaven and hell.”

There it was again, that riddle.

“What does that mean?” Alec asked. “We actually found that in a book, but even Magnus didn’t know.”

Tessa hesitated before answering.

“We never told anyone, because we’d rather it stay hidden, of course. But Valentine did torture that out of me, and there’s a chance he could figure it out. It means that only a person of either heaven of hell who had the love of one born of the opposite, and therefore would not wish to harm them, could find it.”

An almost tangible wave of shock ripples round the table, murmurs breaking out. Alec was trying to wrap his head around it.

“So, you mean…”

“A downworlder who is in love with a shadowhunter. Or a shadowhunter who is in love with a downworlder. They must seek it together, though, or it will not work.”

He felt as though the carpet had been pulled out from under him. Could that possibly mean…but it couldn’t. The love of Tessa and Will had been legendary. Fantastic. The thing that inspired stories for centuries after. He was sure that only a love equalling that degree would be of any use. Not that he would even use that word to describe…

He became aware of the silence that had fallen around the table, and looked up to see eight pairs of eyes staring at him.

He swallowed.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing that such a couple doesn’t exist.” He made his voice light, antithetical to his thoughts inside.

“Alec…” Izzy reached out to him.

“No.” He was firm, blunt. “I’m going to go for a walk.” He stood, feeling off-kilter. He avoided the eyes still on him as he quickly left the room heading for the kitchen where he knew there was a door that led to the grounds. He needed time to think, and space to breathe.

_._

Magnus had finally woken sometime in the late afternoon, when the air was still and the sun was low in the sky.

He lay there a moment catching his bearings, going over the last things he remembered.

Chains around his wrists, heavy and cold and clamping down on his magic.

Bruises all over his body, aching remnants of the ‘persuasion’ he’d been subjected to.

The trial, and counting his last heartbeats whilst looking into Alexander’s eyes.

Alexander, shouting for him, running to him. Holding him, kissing him.

Had that…had that actually happened?

Magnus might have convinced himself that it was all a dream, a desperate figment of his imagination, of his fear-struck mind, if he could not still feel the whisper of lips against his. If he could not have mapped out on his body the places where he’d been held by hands strong but gentle. If he could not have been able to recall the sweet taste of him, his alluring scent.

He shivered, pushing himself up. He needed to find him now.

He was at Ragnor’s, he realised, and other memories started to rush in. How all his friends had come to rescue him, and they’d portalled out. Alec’s hand had been in his. Then, darkness.

He was still aching, slightly, but his head was clear now. It would still be a while before his magic would be in full working order but he felt it beneath his fingertips, sparking to life in his blood.

He climbed out of the bed he’d been laid on, moving to the door. He grimaced as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t able to summon his clothes or make up just yet, and he knew better than to hope that Ragnor might have something he could use. Oh well.

He ran into Catarina in the hallway, who jumped and gave him a huge hug. He hugged her back but she let go quickly, as though she could read his mind.

“He’s in the garden.”

He smiled, thanking her. They’d catch up later. For now, he made his way downstairs quickly, relishing in stretching his muscles, finding his way through the familiar hallways out to the grounds.

It didn’t take him long to find him, the boy who had been prominent in all of his thoughts since the first day they’d met. It had been quite a wild ride, he thought to himself. They were the craziest, most incompatible couple you’d ever think of…on paper. But there had been something there the very first moment their eyes had met, that inexplicable, indescribable spark.

“Hi.”

Alec jumped, turning from where he’d been stood at the edge of the koi pond, watching the slowly darkening sky over the sea that was past the perimeter. His eyes widened when he saw Magnus, something like hope and relief flashing across his face. But it was gone the moment it arrived, and trepidation clenched around Magnus’s heart.

“I’m sorry.”

 They both spoke at the same time, before smiling, ruefully. Alec looked down at the ground, his hands fiddling with the edge of his tunic as Magnus had seen him do so many times before when he was nervous, or felt out of his depth.

He wasn’t quite sure though, what he was thinking.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” He began, hovering where he stood, a few metres away from Alec. He wanted desperately to go closer, to feel the warmth of his body sinking into his own, to seek out the comfort safety that he’d begun to associate with the shadowhunter prince.

_Stupid_ , a little voice in his mind told him. He’d thought that he’d silenced it when Alec had kissed him, but evidently not. Alec wasn’t coming to him, either.

“How are you feeling?” Alec asked eventually, breaking the few moments of silence that had seemed like a lifetime to Magnus.

“Much better.” Magnus tried to inject false cheer into his voice, to disguise the growing pain he felt. Alec wouldn’t look at him.

“I’m glad.” Another pause. “Have you spoken to anyone else?”

“No…” Magnus paused, wanting to just blurt out what he wanted to. To ask Alec to get it over with and tell him it was a mistake. “Why?”

Alec bit his lip, and that wasn’t helping Magnus at all. He looked up, finally catching Magnus’s gaze with his own. There was sadness in their depths, and Magnus wanted to soothe it away.

“We can’t…” he began, and Magnus’s heart lurched. This was it. He schooled his features into a mask of indifference.

“We shouldn’t…” Alec tried again, breaking off. He sighed, wringing his hands.

Magnus’s heart gave a pang, and he moved forward without thinking. He stopped just before Alec, his hands hovering by his sides.

“It’s okay.” He heard himself saying. He just wanted to make that sad look go away. “You don’t owe me anything. It was spur of the moment, and I don’t expect anything from you.” He was surprised that he managed to keep his voice measured.

Alec jerked his head up in surprise, confusion etched onto his features, his brows furrowed.

“What?” He asked, eyes scanning Magnus’s face. “No, it wasn’t. Spur of the moment, I mean.”

Now Magnus was confused. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so lost in love, not knowing what to say.

Alec was shaking his head vehemently, his eyes soft, yearning. But his hands stayed by his sides, clenched into fists.

“Magnus, I…” his voice was quiet, rough. “I don’t regret it. I wanted it…I’m sorry it was so…forced…” he broke off, flushing. “I didn’t mean to jump on you.”

Magnus couldn’t help a grin, despite still being confused.

“No need, Alexander. If I hadn’t been so weak, I assure you, I would have done the exact same.”

Alec smiled ruefully, something sparking in his eyes. His gaze dropped to Magnus’s mouth momentarily, before he looked away again.

“So what’s wrong? What is it?” Magnus asked, when Alec didn’t offer anything else. He felt like he would burst. They’d both wanted the kiss, and Alec didn’t regret it. So what was it?

“We can’t be together.” Alec said quietly, to the grass beneath their feet.

Another pang, this one significantly more painful.

“I – I know that you have – duties, Alexander, but I – ”

“No, no.” Alec was shaking his head. “It’s not that. Angel, Magnus, I wish I…” he broke off, breathing hard. “It’s Valentine.”

“I know your parents would rather you choose another shadowhunter Alexander, but I think even they might prefer me over him.” Magnus tried to joke, feeling increasingly lost in the conversation.

Alec’s lips twitched.

“No, its…the mortal cup. Tessa…before, when you were sleeping, Tessa told us how to find it. How to retrieve it.”

Magnus wasn’t expecting that.

“Oh? But how does that…”

“It’s us, Magnus. Well, I think...I don’t know but, I think that maybe…it could be. And I don’t want to put you in anymore danger, not if I can help it. I don’t even know if this counts, but it feels…it feels like it might.”

His fingers curled around Magnus’s, caressing them ever so slightly before letting go. Magnus stayed still, not bothering to suppress the shiver that raced through him at the touch. He waited for Alec to finish.

“She said...she said that the cup can only be retrieved by a being of heaven, and a being of hell. Who…who are…like her. and Will. Like they were.”

His voice broke off, a delicate blush gracing his cheeks.

“Oh.” Magnus finally understood, and his heart swelled. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been rendered speechless.

“Alexander…” he managed, through the overwhelming tide of his emotions.

But Alec moved away when he reached out, the colour on his cheeks darkening.

“I don’t expect…you don’t have to say that we are, or not. I just…if there’s any chance, I – ”

“Want to protect the cup.” Magnus finished for him, feeling a different kind of pain lance through him. Something sweet and bitter.

“I never had any doubt, Alexander.” He said, choosing his words carefully. “I know that this is all new to you, but I have significant experience…and around you, it feels like the first time. Feeling this way.”

Their eyes locked again, and the spark that was now familiar to Magnus ignited, prickling on his skin, burning through his veins. Alec’s eyes roamed his face, darting around, intense and concentrated.

“I don’t know how to deal with this.” He admitted, in little more than a whisper.

Magnus shook his head, moving closer, until he could feel the delicious heat of Alec’s body against his own, with just a few millimetres between them.

“Me either.”

Something passed between them, an understanding of sorts, a relinquishing of power, of control.

Magnus leaned forward, bringing his face to Alec’s, marvelling in their closeness, relaxing with every short warm breath that rolled across his skin. Alec was still, not moving closer, but not moving away either. Magnus couldn’t help himself. He was drawn by a force stronger than he was, pulling him in like he was a star around the sun that was Alec. Thoughts of war and cups and threats and forbidden love deserted him and all he could think of was Alec, Alec’s eyes burning into his, Alec’s hands ghosting up and down his arms, Alec’s lips…

And then they were on his, soft and light and velvet and Magnus brushed their mouths together once, twice, three times, shivering in the exquisite pleasure of it. Never had he felt something like it. Never, in all of his centuries of living, and loving.

He pulled back infinitesimally, to regard Alec and his reaction. No matter what he felt, no matter what they had confessed, he wouldn’t do anything that Alec didn’t want him to.

Alec’s eyes were squeezed shut, the lines of a frown on his forehead. Magnus made to step back, trying to swallow his disappointment, but strong hands shot out to grasp his shoulders before he got the chance.

Alec’s eye’s flickered open, and Magnus caught his breath at what he saw in them.  His pupils were dilated, the colour of his irises almost disappearing into their endless black depths. They were bright, sharp intense. They flicked down to his lips again, and Magnus barely had time to catch his breath before their lips were fused together, hard and demanding.

Alec kissed him with an uninhibited passion, claiming his lips, stealing the breath from his lungs, leaving gasping for air. He pulled away to breathe deeply, Magnus blindly chasing after his lips, after the sweet torture of his embrace.

Their eyes locked again, wordless declarations passing between them. They couldn’t be voiced, not right now. It would be too painful, with what they knew now. But it didn’t change things, and Magnus was sure to shout that with his eyes. Alec’s softened, passion warming into something brighter, softer, something more like…

Magnus wouldn’t even let himself think the word. It might break him, if he did.

He leaned in again, needing to feel those lips against his own, already missing the sensation. He brought his hands up, slipping them around Alec’s neck as their mouths met again, cradling his head like something precious. Alec’s hands drifted to his hips, closing around them, pulling their bodies closer together as they sank into the embrace.

Magnus’s mind was buzzing, his skin electrified. Everything else had faded away, he was a stranger to all that was not Alec. He tilted his head, giving himself away, offering up everything he had.

Alec caressed his mouth with his own, catching Magnus’s top lip and then his bottom, making him gasp into his mouth. It was sweet and careful, everything opposite to the last kiss, but infinitely more devastating.

He ran his tongue over the seam of Alec’s lips, begging for entry. A low gasping moan escaped Alec’s mouth as he complied immediately, parting his lips.

Magnus wasn’t prepared for the sensation of slipping his tongue into Alec’s hot, wet mouth. It had been electric the first time, tentative brushes, innocent compared to this.

But this time they were alone, and he wasn’t dropping from exhaustion. They could give themselves over completely, and that’s exactly what they did.

He could feel Alec shuddering against his body, feeling his own shake as they moved with each other, falling into the same sweet rhythm, pouring all of the feelings they could not voice into the symphony of their lips, tongues and hands.

He would never tire of this, he thought, breaking away from Alec’s lips to mouth along his jaw, tasting his skin, salty and sweet. Feeling his small noise of protest turn into a throaty moan as his lips found the skin of his neck, kissing, gently nipping his way down, feeling the boy in his arms melt as his hands scrabbled against his back, rising to tangle his fingers in the hairs on the back of Magnus’s neck.

His stomach twisted with every little noise Alec made, it was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard. He raised his head when Alec tugged his hair gently, regretfully leaving the soft skin he’d been caressing, loving. His disappointment was short lived however, when Alec brought their lips together again, his nose brushing Magnus’s chin as they fell deeper and deeper. Magnus could no longer tell where he ended and Alec began. He dragged his hands down Alec’s chest, feeling his strong muscles moving under his gentle touch. Alec’s fingers found the hem of his tunic – his horrible, ugly tunic – and slipped underneath. He gasped as cold fingers met his over-heated skin, at the explosion of sparks in the places he was touched, Skin on skin, he melted into Alec. He felt that he would combust there, on the spot, hanging on to Alec, chasing his lips, swallowing his moans, writhing under the shy but nimble fingers stroking over his stomach and back, tracing the lines of his body, learning him…

A sound interrupted them, he couldn’t have said what it was, a surprised exclamation of some sort, but it startled him into breaking away from Alec. Every cell in his body protested at the loss of contact.

They turned to see Izzy and Simon standing there, at the entrance to the small grove where he’d found Alec, matching blushes upon their cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Izzy stumbled on the words. “We were just…um, we were looking for Alec…”

Alec had frozen next to him, and if Magnus wasn’t mourning the loss of his body against his he would have smiled.

“I’m here.” Alec croaked out.

“I can see that.” Izzy grinned, seeming to overcome her embarrassment. “Alec, Tessa wants to speak to you. Magnus too, I should have guessed you’d be together.”

She smiled at them again, softer this time. She looked genuinely happy.

“It’s going to be okay, you know. We’re all here for you. We support you.” She said this last to them both, and Magnus felt some little tension he didn’t know he’d been holding on to melt away. Yes, they had a lot to talk about and a lot to deal with. Decisions to make. But to know that Izzy, one of the most important people in Alec’s life, was behind them, it helped.

Izzy and Simon disappeared back into the house, presumably, and Magnus turned to Alec. He was a picture in the dusk (apparently the sun had set while they’d been…otherwise occupied), all pink lips and mussed hair, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Magnus couldn’t help but reciprocate, grinning as his heart stuttered at the openness at which the affection on Alec’s face was clear.

“Maybe we can…talk about this tomorrow?” Alec asked, sounding shy even though he’d been wrapped around Magnus only moments before.

“Of course.” Magnus lifted a hand to brush a stray strand of hair out of Alec’s eyes, wondering if his heart would ever stop beating so fast around Alec. He hoped not, no matter how complicated it made things.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.” Alec’s voice was soft. “I really thought, for a moment…”

“I am okay.” Magnus interrupted, taking his hand. “All thanks to you.”

They smiled at each other, feeling their hearts beat in sync.

Tomorrow, they would talk. Tomorrow, they would strategise. But tonight, tonight they would just be grateful. For each other, for safety, and for all of their companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! Only about three chapters left now! Brace yourselves for action.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plotting, conversations and a little bit of loving ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am genuinely surprised that I have been able to function somewhat like a human being this week. Because Malec almost killed me. Thank the Angel its summer and I'm not currently required to function at school or work. I bow down to the writers, director, editors, crew and not least the actors (!!) of that episode. Because it was perfection.

Alec woke early the next morning, feeling restless.

It was growing ever closer, he could feel it. What it would be exactly, he didn’t know. Victory or tragedy. Win or lose. Climb or fall. Only time would tell, and all they could do was prepare the best they could.

He almost couldn’t wrap his head around the events of the previous few days. The fear, the anxiety, the pain, the loss, the joy…

Magnus had made him feel things he’d never even dreamed he could feel. Every moment was something new, something more, something that had been building since the very first moment they’d locked eyes. It was everything he’d never thought he’d have, suddenly within arms reach. And then, when he’d finally seen that happiness within grasp, there was yet another barrier in his way.

Tessa had spoken to them both the night before, when they’d finally gone back into the house. She’d told them not to worry, that the knowledge that only they could find the cup shouldn’t keep them apart. That wasn’t the intention, she’d said. And Alec knew that she meant it. The mortal instruments shouldn’t have to be locked away, it didn’t used to be that way. But after the Mortal War, the joy of victory had seceded to fear and panic. No-one wanted to jeopardise the fragile peace they’d created, no-one wanted to risk the return to a dangerous life fighting demons. So the instruments were locked away and as the years went on, fear increased. Shadowhunters no longer knew how to fight as they once did. The world would be in great peril if the wards were ever broken. So locked away they stayed, contrary to Will and Tessa’s best intentions. The Shadowhunters and the Downworlders drifted apart, the Downworlders a constant reminder of the demon realms that existed outside of their own. But that time was ending, Tessa told them, and she thought it was a good thing. Alec thought it was a good thing too, but his feelings had become a weapon. And that, he didn’t know how to deal with.

They hadn’t needed words when they’d parted for bed, a single caress of Magnus’s hand against his cheek had been enough. They both understood. They couldn’t hide it, couldn’t deny it, but they could be careful. Until this was all over, at least. Then they would know, one way or another.

He got out of bed slowly, dressing for the day. He wondered what it would bring.

 

.

 

He wasn’t surprised that he was the first one downstairs, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon when he entered the kitchen. He made himself a cup of tea absentmindedly, staring over the idyllic gardens, a view in contrast to the state of things.

The tea was delicious, full-bodied and fragrant, but it wasn’t Magnus’s tea. He missed Magnus’s tea. He wondered if he’d ever get to see the cottage again. If Magnus would get to see it again.

He was startled out of his reverie when a bright flame sparked into existence in front of him. He jumped, scalding his hands with the hot tea as it splashed out of the mug, cursing as it burned.

The flame winked out of existence almost as soon as it had arrived, leaving behind a small scrap of paper, floating in the air. He put the mug down and reached out to take it, his heart beat returning to normal.

_Alec,_

The note read.

_I hope that you all are somewhere safe. Things aren’t great here, but I wanted to update you. Unfortunately your parents still refuse to acknowledge the threat. They refuse to acknowledge anything, actually. The gates to the Palace have been shut. But there are a few of us who stand by you. I’ve been talking to some of the young nobles, and most of them believe me. I don’t know how many are willing to put that belief into practice, but I think there will be at least a few. Please let me know when you are going to fight, because I know that it will happen. I will come, and I will bring as much support as I can with me._

_By the way, that was awesome, what you did in the courthouse. You rock._

_Please give my love to Isabelle._

_Yours,_

_Lydia._

He’d never gotten a firemessage before. He didn’t know what to think. There was some frustration, at the continued behaviour of his parents, but he supposed that he hadn’t expected anything more. He scanned the letter again. As much as he wanted to keep his peers out of it, the battle ahead, he knew that it wasn’t his choice to make. Anyone who wanted to fight alongside the downworlders would help to close the gap between them. And it was their world too. It was their right. He felt proud, of Lydia, and of the ones who’d stand by his side. They’d played their part too, at Magnus’s trial. There were more than a few unwilling to put up with the outdated beliefs and traditions of the older generation.

He left the kitchen in search of an office, and found one with some clear rolls of parchment and quills. He quickly scribbled out a response, a thank you and a promise to keep her in the loop, and sent to message, well-practiced as he was now with the firemessage rune.

“Alec?”

He turned to see Isabelle framed in the doorway of the office, concern painted on her face.

“Is everything ok?”

He quickly told her of Lydia’s message, and his response. A small smile tugged at her lips at the mention of her but she didn’t reference it.

“How are you though? How is Magnus?” She asked.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m fine. We’re fine. I think. It’s just…”

He paused, not knowing what to say.

“I don’t know what to do. Not just because of the cup,” he hastened to say, when she opened her mouth. “But because…it’s going to be dangerous whatever happens. I don’t want to start something if it’s just going to…if I don’t…”

The words _make it_ were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them. Even through the small battles he’d been in, he couldn’t imagine the possibility of not surviving the next one. She seemed to understand though, moving to lay a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve already started something, Alec. Trying to ignore that fact won’t change how you, or he, will feel if something bad happens.”

He nodded grudgingly, conceding. She was right.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I also needed to tell you something. I heard from Meliorn – one of the Seelie Knights?” she specified when he looked confused. “And he warned me that they’ve found scouts of Valentine searching their forest. I don’t think he’s found the mortal cup yet but he’s certainly looking.”

Alec bit his lip.

“We need to tell the others.”

 

.

 

“So I guess it’s time,” Tessa began, once again chairing the meeting of their little group. “To tell you all the location of the Mortal Cup.”

An almost perceptible shiver rippled around the table, as they all perked up, eager but wary. Her blue-grey eyes were sharp, and the only part of her that looked her age. A century of wisdom, love and loss shone through them.

“It is buried.” She began. “Underneath some rocks… by the side of the Mortal Mirror.”

Only Magnus, Ragnor and Catarina didn’t look surprised, or confused.

“I thought… that no-one knew where the mirror was?” Izzy asked eventually.

Tessa sighed.

“No-one except for those that fought that day. We worked hard to erase that part of the story, to protect out world. But now the time has come to tell the truth, for this battle will happen it seems, regardless.”

“So the mirror is buried too?” Jace asked.

“No.” Tessa looked at him, sadness aging her youthful face. “The cup is buried by the side of Lake Lyn.”

Lake Lyn. The lake famous for the rising of Raziel all those centuries ago, to Jonathon Shadowhunter, when he blessed him with the powers to fight the demons that penetrated and threatened their dimension.

“And the mirror is…” Alec asked, unable to take the tension. He’d felt distracted ever since Magnus had walked in, looking fresh and beautiful that morning, as always.

“The lake.” Tessa answered, to ensuing silence.

Alec sighed alongside his siblings as Clary and Simon looked on in confusion, not having grown up with their lore.

The mirror was the lake. Now that he thought about it, that made so much sense. He didn’t know why he hadn’t suspected before. That was the missing part of the puzzle. And that made things a lot more complicated.

“So…” he leaned forward, frowning. “If Valentine manages to get his hands on the Cup…and he already has the sword…he’ll be right by the Mirror, and he could…”

“Raise the Angel.” Izzy finished for him, her voice in awe.

His gaze flicked to Magnus who was already watching him, not bothering to disguise the sadness in his eyes. He swallowed, opting to stare down at the table instead. Things just kept on getting worse.

“Um…” Simon piped up. “Why, exactly, would this Valentine want to raise an Angel? Wouldn’t that be a good thing for you guys?”

Magnus spoke up, having been uncharacteristically silent so far that morning.

“Angels aren’t the beings you have likely learnt about, young Samuel.”

“Um, it’s Simon.”

Magnus ignored him, seemingly far away.

“Angels are beyond us and our politics. They are great, mostly benevolent, but that usually depends upon the wish of the summoner. Whoever raises the Angel will be granted one wish; Valentine could kill us all with a single word, break the wards, make himself King.”

Clary was frowning.

“I can’t see a mostly benevolent higher being doing any of that, even if they are bound to grant a wish. They aren’t common genies, right?”

“No they are not, but there is no knowing what the Angel will do, if called to this world.” Catarina replied. “Like you said, they are higher beings. They exist in an entirely different dimension, one with different rules that we cannot understand. Either way, we can’t risk Valentine making that wish.”

“So.” Luke said, his voice gruff. “We fight.”

 

.

“Are you okay?”

The soft voice came from behind him, but Alec didn’t have to turn to know who it was. Magnus came to stand beside him as he stood looking out of the great bay windows in Ragnor’s living room. Their meeting had gone on a little longer, but there was little they could do from the table. It was clear that Valentine was close, and the time would soon come when they would have to meet him in battle. For better or for worse. But even so, he couldn’t help but relax a little as Magnus’s arm brushed against his own, the mere proximity calming his nerves.

“Are you?” He asked, avoiding the question.

He turned to look at him properly, for the first time that day. He looked back to his normal self, in the bright, glittery clothes that Alec had associated with him since the beginning. The pain and exhaustion in his eyes was gone, and his make-up was back on. But Alec saw through it all, to the man beneath. A few nights sleep and some eyeliner wouldn’t wash away the things that Magnus had been through. And it wouldn’t make him forget it, either.

“I am.” Magnus answered, smiling ruefully when Alec raised his eyebrows. “Really, Alexander.” His smile softened, and he placed a hand on Alec’s arm. “I’ve been through worse.”

It hit Alec then, for the first time since their…well, whatever they were, had started, that Magnus had centuries of life experience on him. It didn’t change anything, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a little intimidating.

“Like what?” He asked, curious. He wanted to get to know Magnus, get to know past the self he presented to the world.

Magnus laughed.

“Well, for example…did you know that this house used to be mine?”

Alec let out a laugh of surprise, looking around with new eyes. Some of the décor had struck him as a little too ostentatious for Ragnor.

“Then why…”

“Ragnor and I took a little sailing trip around the Caribbean. We may or may not have run into a spot of trouble…and it may or may not have been my fault…but he threatened not to speak to me for the next ten years until I offered him this house as recompense for his shattered dignity.”

Alec couldn’t help but laugh again, both at the story and the way Magnus’s face lit up when he spoke of his past, bright and mischievous.

“What happened exactly?”

“Ah, well, Ragnor’s made me swear never to tell. Such a fragile pride he has.” Magnus grinned. “But let’s just say it involved pirates, parrots, poles…and a rather large, unfortunate misunderstanding. I’ve made sure to steer clear of that part of the world ever since. I’m pretty sure I’m still a wanted man there.”

He winked, and Alec felt his stomach flip.

“Well I’m glad, because you’re also a wanted man right here.” He heard himself say, before he could stop.

Magnus looked shocked for a moment, then threw his head back laughing.

Alec flushed, but was pleased with himself. He’d take any embarrassment to make Magnus laugh like that.

“Why, Alexander.” Magnus tilted his head to the side, still smiling widely. “Are you flirting with me?”

Alec put his hand on his waist to draw him closer, feeling brave all of a sudden.

“Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?”

Magnus’s eyes dropped to his mouth, and that was enough to kick Alec’s heart beat into overdrive again. He began to tilt his head, anticipating the heady slide of Magnus’s lips against his own, when they were interrupted.

“Guys.” Jace complained, from where he lay lounging on the sofa. “I love you both but do you have to be so sickeningly sweet? Some of are trying to plot a war here.”

Alec’s cheeks burned as he whipped his hand off Magnus’s waist. He hadn’t heard anyone come into the lounge behind Magnus, but the lounge had become rather densely populated, it seemed.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Jace.” Clary reprimanded him. “And like you’re actually doing any plotting, it’s all Izzy here.”

Indeed Izzy was sprawled across the floor in between the sofas, with a large map of the Seelie Forest in front of her. Alec moved to sit opposite Jace, regarding the notes she’d made.

“Catarina and Tessa have gone to the Vampires, Luke’s gone to his pack and to rally other werewolves.” Izzy told them, her voice sharp and efficient.

Alec had always thought it a waste that she’d been barred from his father’s council room, when she was clearly the smartest of them all.

“Do we have a time?” He asked. He stopped himself from reaching out to Magnus, who’d sat down next to him.

Izzy raised her eyes to him.

“The Seelie’s say tomorrow night. They don’t like him in their forest. They won’t wait any longer than that.”

Alec let out an audible breath, shivering. One day, that’s all they had. One day to prepare to fight against Valentine.

 

.

 

Most of the day was spent in preparation.

Magnus and Ragnor joined Catarina, Tessa and Luke in portalling around Idris to raise an army. Isabelle took her map to the room they’d been using for councils, and continued to plot their attack, marking positions of the greatest advantage. Alec and Jace spent most of the day outside with Simon and Clary, showing them how to use various different weapons, and how best to incapacitate an attacker. They wouldn’t be in the thick of the action, but they both refused to stay behind. Seeing as their hideout had been compromised before, they all agreed that it was best to stick together. Still, Alec could tell that Jace was worried about them, about Clary in particular. He pushed them hard, getting them to practice different jabs and twists over and over. Finally Alec called for a break, telling Simon and Clary to go get a drink. He moved over to where Jace was sitting, sharpening his swords with a hard expression.

“Hey.” He sat down beside him, picking up a spare flint and one of his arrows. “It’s going to be okay.”

Jace shook his head, pursing his lips.

“You don’t know that. You can’t promise that.”

Alec conceded that fact.

“No, I can’t promise. But we’re going to do our best. We can’t avoid this fight, and like it or not, it’s theirs too. Maybe even more for Clary.”

“I know.” Jace sighed. “I just wish…I just wish I could keep her safe.”

Alec looked at his brother, all golden hair and muscles.

“You care for her, don’t you?”

Jace sighed again, and nodded.

“I don’t know what it is. There’s just something about her.” He confessed. He looked at Alec then, his face twisting into something remorseful. “I’m sorry… I know you’re not her biggest fan.”

Alec grimaced, looking down.

“I didn’t used to be.” He said, picking up the next arrow. “But she’s grown on me.”

“What was it about her?” Jace asked, sounding curious.

Alec wanted to laugh.

“You really didn’t know?” He was incredulous.

Jace shook his head, waiting for an answer.

“Well apart from the fact that she was Valentines daughter, and we could have been walking into a huge trap…I…nevermind.” He looked down, a faint flush on his cheeks.

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Jace’s voice changed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that. I never meant to make you feel bad, Alec. I’m sorry I didn’t…feel the same way.”

Alec’s mouth hung open, he felt a crick in his neck from the speed at which he turned to look at Jace.

“Wh-what? You knew?”

It was Jace’s turn to suppress a smile.

“Well, I might have suspected. Come on Alec, you never even looked at girls!”

Alec closed his eyes momentarily, wishing the embarrassment away.

“You never said anything.”

“Because you didn’t! I didn’t want to bring it up if it made you uncomfortable. And I only really guessed because of Magnus, anyway.”

“Magnus?” Alec was confused.

“Yeah.” Jace nodded. “Do you think I would have paraded all those girls around you for the last few years if I’d have known? I know I’m not always the nicest person but I’m not _that_ awful. It wasn’t until I saw the way Magnus looked at you, and the way you looked at him, that I realised you sometimes looked at me like that.”

“Shit.” Alec was really embarrassed now. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, then grunted as Jace hit him on the shoulder.

“Don’t apologise, idiot! There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry that you didn’t feel you could talk to me about it.”

“I didn’t talk to anyone about it.” Alec replied, feeling his shoulder going numb.

“I figured.” Jace grinned. “It was awesome, by the way, the way you came out. Couldn’t have made it more dramatic myself.”

Alec rolled his eyes, punching him back.

“Thanks.”

“No worries. You and Magnus, though…”

“Yeah?”

“I like it.” Jace nodded approvingly. “You seem happy.”

Alec sighed.

“I am. I was…but all of this stuff…I don’t know.”

“Hey.” Jace put his sword down, grabbing his arm. “Don’t be ashamed of love. Don’t try to suppress it. That’s what we’re fighting for, after all. And that’s how we’ll win. Okay?”

Alec stared into his eyes, feeling a wave of gratitude crash over him.

“Okay.”

 

.

 

It was strange, Alec thought that night when he retired to his room, how things could change, quickly and slowly at the same time.

It had only been a few weeks, after all, since he had met Magnus. A few weeks ago he had been whole-heartedly, irrevocably in love with Jace.

It had only been a few weeks, and yet it seemed like a lifetime.

Now his dreams were filled with dark, caramel coloured skin, silky black hair, lean, hard muscle that contracted when he ran his fingers over it, little gasps into his mouth as they kissed…

He sat up in bed, pushing the covers off, feeling too hot. His heart was thumping in his chest, goosebumps rising on his skin.

He wasn’t sure if Magnus was home yet, he’d still been out with Catarina by the time they’d decided to call it a night. Alec had never craved the company of a specific person before, but he was very aware that he wanted Magnus right now. What it was exactly that he wanted, he wasn’t sure. He wouldn’t even let his mind go there, not wanting to lose his mind entirely. All he knew was that it was late, and quiet, and he craved the warmth of the warlock’s body against his own. And with the battle tomorrow…he knew that he might not get another chance.

He swallowed that thought, casting it out. He made his decision, his heart in his throat. He threw a shirt on mindlessly, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself.

Tiptoeing down the hall was easy, with his sure-footed rune burning on his ankle. Knocking was slightly harder, he was as gentle as he could be but couldn’t suppress the sound entirely. It didn’t matter if anyone heard, he told himself. It wasn’t about that.

The minute he waited seemed to stretch out; he was just about to give up and slink back to his room when the door opened, revealing a surprised Magnus with no make-up and no shirt on. Alec caught his breath.

“Alexander?” Magnus looked bewildered. “Is everything okay?”

Alec swallowed, dragging his eyes away from the smooth, perfectly sculpted chest in front of him.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Magnus still looked confused but stepped aside to let him in. “Hold on, I’ll just cover up.”

“Don’t,” Alec blurted out. “I – I mean, y-you don’t have to. If you don’t want to.”

He stumbled over the words, feeling awkward and out of place. He fixed his eyes on the floor in front of Magnus, deliberately not looking at the large four-poster bed against the opposite wall. Magnus cocked his head, the beginnings of a smile playing on his lips.

“Do you not want me to?” He asked, his voice low. He moved closer, sashaying his hips in a manner that was extremely distracting.

Alec cleared his throat before closing the distance between them, answering by catching Magnus’s lips in a kiss that was as soft as it was devastating. Magnus’s soft sigh spurred him to place his hands on his hips, thumbs brushing the bare skin above his breeches. Magnus’s hands reached around his neck, pulling him into another kiss as soon as they parted. Alec gasped as his tongue slipped inside, hot and sweet and all too arousing.

Magnus pulled back too soon, leaving Alec chasing after his lips, already panting and dark-eyed.

“I’m sorry.” Magnus apologised, gently extricating himself from Alec’s grasp. He gave a little laugh, self-consciously touching the silver cuff on his ear as he turned away. “I always seem to get a little too carried away with you. What was it you wanted?”

Alec’s head was fuzzy, the fire that ignited in his veins every time Magnus touched him making it hard to think coherently.

“You.” Magnus’s head shot up, disbelief in his eyes. “Just you.”

Alec crossed the space between them, reaching out to take Magnus’s hand, hoping to convey all he couldn’t say with the gesture. He was innocent and hopeful, offering every bit of the little that he had to Magnus.

“Alec…Alexander.” Magnus’s voice was soft. “We don’t have to do this. Not tonight.”

Alec dropped his hand, pain lancing through his heart, the rejection pulsing bitter blood through his veins.

“You don’t want to?” He took a step back, feeling ashamed.

“No, no.” Magnus took his hand again. “I do. I want to, Alexander, I do. More than anything. I just…I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this, just because I have…experience. Or because we have to fight tomorrow. I don’t…” he shook his head, sounding unsure. “I don’t want you to regret this. Regret _me._ ”

Alec blinked, the words settling in.

“Magnus.” The Warlock looked up, his expression guarded.

“I don’t regret you. I never could.” He shook his head, smiling at the absurdity of it. “Maybe this is a little because of tomorrow. Because…I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know that not everything will be good. And I want this, with you. Before our world is changed forever. But I would want this, regardless. It’s all I’ve been able to think of recently. You.”

He looked earnestly into his eyes, those eyes that shone in the back of his mind at all times. He hoped that Magnus believed him. It was another minute that felt like forever as Magnus gazed at him, his eyes shining, before he spoke.

“It’s all I’ve been able to think of too.” He confessed. He reached up to cup Alec’s face, his skin heating up beneath his fingers. “Are you sure?”

Alec trembled, closing his eyes as Magnus’s breath washed over him.

“I’m sure.”

Magnus kissed him them, and it felt like a promise. A secret agreement, between the two of them.

Alec brought his hands to Magnus’s hips again, letting his fingers travel up his sides. He caught Magnus’s gasp and felt him tremble under his touch as he deepened their kiss. It was slower than the day before, less desperate. But it was richer, warmer, safer. It was falling, and knowing that they’d catch each other. It was trusting in the feeling they shared, the feeling they both knew the name of but would not voice. So they let their hands talk for them.

Magnus’s nimble fingers were quick in ridding Alec of his shirt, and nothing could have prepared Alec for the feeling of warm hands exploring his chest, of their bare skin pressed against each other.

They had the whole night, but there was a slow urgency building. A growing need for more, always more.

They tumbled onto the bed still kissing, lips all but glued together, leaving a trail of their clothes upon the floor, uncaring of anything but their embrace. Of the kisses pressed onto hot skin, of the gasps and moans they could pull out of the other.

Magnus was nothing but thorough, in his exploration of Alec, and Alec did his best to do the same. Every inch of skin was the holy grail, every touch a foreign delight. Every kiss felt like the first one, and Alec felt that he would never, could never tire from the simple pleasure of Magnus’s lips against his own.

It was perfect imperfection that night, laughter and whispers and toe-curling discoveries under the blanket of darkness, baring their bodies and souls to each other. It was a push and pull of desire, a pouring out of self and all that they were. It was hands grasping at hips and sheets, panting and thrusting and falling over the edge together, seeing stars behind eyes and feeling their souls meld into one.

“Is it always like that?”

Alec had whispered into Magnus’s neck sometime after their breathing had returned to normal, as they lay entangled together, sweat soaked sheets thrown onto the floor, their heated skin cooling down.

“No.” Magnus had whispered back, into Alec’s hair. “It has never been like that.”

Alec hummed in sated pleasure, drifting off to sleep as Magnus’s fingers trailed through his hair, the sound of his heart beat matching his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo what did you think?? I hope this chapter was okay. It was a little rushed because, as I mentioned before, I've been somewhat out of commission, writing-wise. And I didn't actually plan to include the sexy stuff until the last chapter, but it just felt right here. It is the first sex scene I've ever written, and I know it wasn't all that explicit, but I'm just dipping my toes in the water! Who knows, maybe they'll get up to some more stuffs before this fic is over. I mean, it's Malec. Of course they will. <3


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than expected, apologies. My little Malec-shipper heart is feeling weak these days :') I actually have no idea what's going to happen in the finale episode. Obvs Malec is endgame but will they end the season still parted?? I think the entire fandom might revolt if that happens xD

It was warmer than Magnus was used to when he began to stir the next morning.

He hadn’t been sleeping too well the past few days, his dreams riddled with flashes of his incarceration, with fears of execution. It had been fitful sleep at best, waking before dawn in a cold sweat. He’d relied on his make-up and colourful clothes more than usual, hiding behind the façade of what everyone expected him to be.

This was different.

The mid-morning sunshine was already streaming through the cracks in the heavy drapes, warm golden beams of light pooling on the carpeted floor. The sheets were bunched up around his waist, but he wasn’t cold. A heavy, pleasant warmth emanated from his chest across the surface of his skin, mirroring the feeling in his heart.

_Comfort._

Soft puffs of air rhythmically caressed his neck, and he cast his sleep-heavy eyes down to see a head of dark hair nestled between his shoulder and the pillows.

The warmth in his heart spread, spiralling through his whole body as he watched the shadowhunter boy sleep, his perpetual frown smoothed out in his peaceful slumber. Magnus became aware of the lack of feeling in the arm he was resting on, but he didn’t move a muscle. He would rather lose the arm than jostle Alec, risking the loss of the quiet peace of their embrace.

He recognised and accepted this new feeling, letting it settle over him, submitting to it.

That he would suffer any and all kinds of pain in the world, if it meant that he could keep Alec close. If it meant that he could indulge in moments like these, mornings like these.

He felt the bed shift as Alec yawned, felt his heart skip a beat as his eyes fluttered open, locking straight onto his.

“G’morning.” Alec mumbled, the words more of a breathy exhale than intonation.

“Good morning.” Magnus replied softly.

Alec smiled then, and it was like the sun was rising. He shifted again, snuggling closer to Magnus, resting his head properly over his heart. Magnus wondered if he could hear it beating, and if he knew that it was all for him. Any lingering fears Magnus might have had about Alec regretting what they’d done last night, the huge step they’d taken, disappeared. Like the last strands of night chased away by the breaking dawn.

He lifted his head, leaning the few centimetres it took him to press his lips against the top of the head of his chest. He felt rather than saw Alec smile against his bare skin, and it was perfect.

 

.

Alec’s blissful morning was short-lived.

Waking up next to Magnus had been nothing short of miraculous. It was something that he’d dreamed of for so long – that kind of intimacy with a man he cared about – but it was something he never thought he’d get to have.

Now they were in full-on battle preparation mode, but Alec wasn’t as scared as he thought he would be. He wasn’t looking forward to it, not at all, but he was happy. Jace had been right; love was what they were fighting for. Even if they hadn’t said it out loud, Alec knew what he felt. He wouldn’t say it before the battle, he refused himself that, but it was true. That was what he was fighting for. And if he survived the night then perhaps he would have earned to right to keep it, to enjoy it.

He couldn’t help the small grin that was permanently etched onto his face as he cleaned and counted his arrows in the back courtyard, periodically glancing over to where Magnus stood, strategizing with Catarina and Ragnor in low voices. He’d always found it difficult not to look at Magnus when he was in the vicinity; now it was near impossible.

“Good Morning, brother.” Izzy sauntered over to him, grinning and drawing out the words. She rested an elbow on his shoulder, flicking her hair to one side. “How are you?”

Alec raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at her.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

She smirked. “Just fine? I would have thought you were doing _great_.”

She winked, and he felt his cheeks burn despite the cool breeze in the courtyard. He faltered, carefully placing the arrow he’d just cleaned into his quiver.

“What do you mean?”

She threw her head back, her laughter pealing out. “This is an old house, Alec. The floorboards creak, and my room is in between yours and Magnus’s.”

He closed his eyes momentarily, wishing for the ground to swallow him up.

“Okay, fine. Yes, I am doing _great._ And that’s all you need to know.”

“Oh, come on Alec! Please! I need details! I always tell you.”

“Yes, but I don’t ask!” He retorted. “And you kept your dalliance with Lydia pretty quiet.”

“That was different.” She argued, her elbow sliding off his shoulder. “She wanted it that way.” Her smile disappeared.

“Hey. It’s okay.” He turned to her. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just – I’d rather not talk about it. It’s not you, it’s just…private.”

He felt butterflies in his stomach as some of those _private_ memories from last night flashed into the forefront of his mind.

She smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“Hey.” He ducked away.

“I respect that, big brother. I’m just happy that you’re happy, okay?”

They shared a smile, and gratitude for one another. Alec felt the peace settle around him, a blanket of calm. The calm before the storm, he thought to himself. They were preparing what they could. He just hoped that it would be enough.

 

.

The rest of the day had passed in a flash.

Gearing up and making sure everybody was armed hadn’t taken long at all but assembling their armies – both of shadowhunter and downworlder factions – had taken longer than expected.

Alec hadn’t been able to indulge in more than a few stolen moments with Magnus amidst the chaos, especially when the latter was required to set up portals to transport their armies to Lake Lyn.

They wouldn’t be fighting together, that was too dangerous. They would be stationed at opposite ends, ensuring that anybody on Valentine’s side who knew of their relationship would not be able to get them both together. Therefore, they had to bid each other goodbye far before the battle began.

Alec didn’t actually say the words, and neither did Magnus. They didn’t say a lot, but Alec was grateful for that. He had to believe in them, had to believe that they would be victorious. Otherwise he would be distracted, constantly wondering how Magnus was faring, out of his sight. But his boyfriend ( _boyfriend?_ That would be a conversation to look forward to, after) was powerful, he told himself. A force to be reckoned with. He saw the fear in Magnus’s eyes as he kissed him goodbye, chaste but desperate, as though he were warring with himself.

“I’ll be fine,” Alec had reassured him. “I’ll be with Izzy and Jace.”

Magnus had merely nodded, his mouth a thin line. Alec had kissed him once more, a gentle promise. _I’ll see you again_. And then they had parted, and Alec forced himself not to look back as Magnus portalled away.

He had a battle to fight.

They arrived on the Western shore of Lake Lyn just before sundown, when the last embers of sunlight were caught amongst the canopy of trees above them, creating a golden glow.

It would have been better to fight Valentine in the day-time, but this was their only chance. The Angel Raziel could only be raised on the night of a full-moon, which was tonight. If Valentine was going to go after the cup, it would be tonight. And they would be waiting.

As soon as they arrived Clary and Simon were ferried off by Luke, and two wolves from his pack who were tasked with guarding them.

Alec went with Isabelle and Jace to stand by Tessa and the portal she had opened, from which was pouring fighters from all of Idris. Alec caught sight of a flash of blonde hair before he was tackled in a hug, gasping in surprise then joy as Lydia pulled back.

“You made it!”

“I did.” She grinned, stepping away to twirl, showing off her outfit.

Alec gaped as he took in her transformation; gone was the delicate femininity of her pastel gowns and intricately braided hair. Now she donned a loose grey tunic and silver-plated armour over skin-tight leather breeches, and her hair was braided but for practicality instead of beauty. She looked more like Isabelle these days than a lady of the High Court, and she was beaming.

“You look great.” He told her, his tone sincere.

She beamed.

“I’ve been waiting to get into these. Is it wrong to say that I kind of want to thank Valentine? If he weren’t trying to kill us all I would have been stuck in those god-forsaken dresses my whole life.”

He laughed, revelling in what may be his last few moments of peace.

“Well if you’ve been training with Izzy, then I think he’ll have a shock coming for him.”

“Lydia?”

Speak of the devil, Alec thought, turning to see his sister. Her expression was shocked, her eyes roving over Lydia’s body.

“Wow.”

Lydia grinned, shyly this time.

“Is that a good wow, or a bad wow?”

“Good.” Izzy collected herself, smiling. “Definitely good. Are you sure you’re ready for this, though?” Worry knit her brow.

Lydia scoffed.

“Please. Did you think I was going to let you have all the fun?”

Alec stepped away, leaving them to it as they caught up.

He sighed as he looked around, surveying their armies. It was better than he could have hoped for, the turnout. But Lake Lyn was huge, and they didn’t quite fill the bank. He only hoped that Valentine hadn’t managed to amass as many supporters, or that he didn’t know they would be waiting for him.

It was folly to assume either of those, though. Of course he would know. He was always ten steps ahead.

This would be the end though, Alec swore silently. The mere feat of bringing downworlders and shadowhunters together to fight had shown that, Valentine had accomplished nothing more than giving them a common enemy against whom to unite.

And they would prevail.

The sound of magic sizzled in the background, as the portals continued to spew fighters out. He caught sight of Helen and Aline, his only friends from court. And with them he recognised a few more faces, those who had spoken up for Magnus at the trial. There were definitely more young faces than older, but that was okay. The young were hungry, and though inexperienced, determined.

His gaze wandered over to the other side of the bank where they’d make their stand, to where Magnus was orchestrating werewolves and Seelies into lines. He caught his breath, wondering how the mere sight of Magnus could have such an effect on him, even from so great a distance.

It strengthened him, though. The feeling in his heart that grew day by day was a constant companion, a reminder of what they were fighting for. What they had to gain, and what Valentine could not take away even if he triumphed.

It would never not be true, what he felt for Magnus. He only regretted not accepting that earlier.

But they were here now.

The sky continued to darken, but the full moon was more than enough light to see by. It reflected off the water of the Lake, emitting a silvery glow that clung to the people beside it. It seemed brighter tonight.

The vampires had arrived at last, fleshing out their little army. Alec didn’t see Camille, and he was grateful for that. He saw Raphael take position besides Magnus and felt a wave of relief, that Magnus would have a loyal friend fighting beside him.

For a while, it was quiet. Nothing but whispers among allies, deep breaths taken in the cool of the night. For a while, it was almost peaceful, as they waited.

And then, it started.

 

.

It happened all of a sudden.

One moment they were standing in battle formation, amongst nothing but broken whispers and the gentle lapping of water against the shore.

The next, they were under attack.

It was pure offence, Valentine’s troops nowhere to be seen, but suddenly deadly beams of light lit up the sky above them crackling with the same energy Alec had come to associate with Magnus, from all different directions.

Alec immediately whipped his shield up, shouting for others around him to do the same, and crouched low to the ground waiting for Valentine’s warlocks to realise they had been stymied.

It had been Magnus’s idea, to imbue their shields with magic-proof charms. It was his way of protecting Alec from across the battle field, as well as they numerous others who were prepared to put their lives on the line for their cause. A warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the curses shooting above him rippled through Alec. He saw a few bodies on the ground, their shields lying useless beside them, their bodies twisted and grotesque in death. He didn’t have time to feel pain for them, though. He only had a moment to spare to check that his siblings were beside him and still alive before thundering feet and battle cries assaulted his ears, and the real battle finally began.

If there was one thing that surprised Alec about the battle, it was the frenzy of it.

For all their planning, all their careful strategizing and organization, it was all he could do to keep up. Lines broke as their enemy crashed through, for as many downworlders as they had managed to amass it seemed that more had gone against them in support of Valentine. Alec didn’t have time to wonder what he had promised them, what lies he had fed them. Did they know they were fighting for their own destruction? But then, they had nothing to thank the Clave and his parents for either.

It was chaos - unorganized, furied, bloody chaos. It didn’t take long until he could no longer see his siblings, separated by the frenzied clash of bodies and metal and magic. It was only due to the glimmer of warlock enchantment on their weapons that Alec could differentiate between friend and foe.

He didn’t have time to hesitate as he swung to kill, didn’t have time to process as he did before, outside the cave with Magnus. There would be time for that later, time to grieve and regret but for now, it was all he could do to try and survive.

He was both disgusted and elated at his newly discovered prowess in battle.

The confrontations he’d been in up till now couldn’t hold a candle to this. They had been playfighting in comparison. Quick, rushed, jumping in and climbing straight back out again. Time to feel shock and horror, time to judge actions and process the enemies face.

There was no such thing in this battle.

Valentine’s troops hit them hard, and there was no time to do anything but fight back. It only took a few minutes until Alec’s muscles were screaming in protest, but he kept on, the thundering of his heart his timekeeper, his motivator. It was the only reason he kept on swinging his sword.

The screeching clash of metal on metal faded into background noise as his training took over, as he fell back on the hours he’d spent with Jace in the training ring. He aimed to disarm as much as he could, but sometimes the fatal blow was unavoidable. Valentines troops had no such qualms, and though the battle was yet young, he’d tripped over more than a few corpses already.

He kept up a mantra in his mind, a desperate prayer to whatever angels might be listening, to keep them safe. To keep them all safe. He already failed, he knew that. But he would not relent. He would not give in.

His muscles were seizing up, his breath coming in pants as he clashed swords with a fearsome, snarling shadowhunter, ink black runes gleaming on every inch of his skin. Alec was tall but his foe easily had half a foot on him, plus bulging muscle. He met him swing for swing, grunting against the brute strength of the soldier before him, and for the first time since the battle had begun the fear of death flashed into his mind. The man’s eyes were wild, his teeth bared, his stringy hair slick with sweat. He looked feral, more so than the wolves fighting with tooth and claw. The glint in his wild eyes told Alec all he needed to know: he didn’t intend to leave him alive.

He was forced into pure defence as the man advanced, barely dodging the great swinging arcs of the broadsword hungry for his blood. He was forced back, further and further, until he began to feel wetness soaking into his boots. He stepped back again, boldly this time, thinking to lure to man out; without the crush of bodies around them perhaps he would stand a chance. But his heel met the soft resistance of a body instead of solid rock and he stumbled back, falling into the shallow waters of the Lake. The wind was knocked from him and he lost his grip on his sword as he threw his hands back to break the fall. He looked up in horror, desperate, as though the force of his gaze could protect him from the killing blow that was to come.

The man grinned widely, an executioners’ promise. He strode forward with confidence, raising the already-bloodstained blade… Alec squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable pain, the last heavy beats of his heart echoing dissonantly in his head, but it never came.

Instead he heard a heavy splash, and looked up to see his would-be-killer’s body lying face first in the water before him, and his adopted brother pulling his sword out of his back, grimacing at the gore.

Alec gaped, feeling flooding back into his body that had been numb from shock and fear. Jace reached out to grasp his arm and he let himself be pulled up.

“Thanks.” His voice sounded tinny, and far away.

Jace grinned cockily, and its familiarity was a shot of warmth through Alec’s cold veins.

“You’re welcome.”

They turned back to the battle, Alec surveying it for the first time. There were significant losses on both sides it seemed, bodies littering the ground. He swallowed the fear that he would recognise some of the lifeless faces.

“Alec. Tell me you did not just nearly die.”

Alec could have laughed in relief as he turned to face his sister, who was standing to the left of him with her hands on her hips and levelling him with a poisonous glare.

“I’m glad you’re okay too, Iz.”

“Watch out!” Jace warned, swinging his sword to meet a vampire who’d tried to sneak up on them.

Alec snapped back into battle mode as two more vampires joined him, but none of them lasted long. A faint whistle of air was all that warned them before Izzy’s whip laced around their feet, pulling them to the ground. After that, they were finished in a matter of seconds.

Alec wiped the blood from his blade, feeling sick to his stomach. But he swallowed the acidic taste in his mouth and started forward to meet another foe, a grizzly werewolf towering over and snapping at a boy whose face Alec thought he recognised.

He was interrupted by a gasp of horror from Jace, and paused to see what could possibly be more horrifying than the battle of life and death they were currently locked in.

Across the wide lake, on the shore on the other side, stood Valentine. On his back was the Mortal Sword, Alec could recognise it even from this great a distance. But that wasn’t the most note-worthy thing.

Behind him were two cronies, and each was holding a blade to the throat of a prisoner. One with fiery red hair, one with glasses.

Once again, he was steps ahead of them.

 

.

 

Magnus had seen too many battles.

Magnus had fought in too many battles.

After the Mortal War over a century ago, he sworn that he was done with it for good. He was too old to care, too wise to be goaded, too weary to hate.

But once again, he’d been dragged into it. And even that he could not claim. He hadn’t been dragged, he’d walked, skipped, ran of his own volition.

“You’re a fool for love, Magnus.” Ragnor had told him once.

But in his defence, that had been a conversation about his admittedly foolish dalliance with Camille, which everyone but he had seen crashing around him from the night they’d met.

This was different; Alexander was different. And Magnus wasn’t only fighting for him. He was fighting for peace, fighting against hatred. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t think he would ever stop fighting for it. He would never give up.

He sent another wave of magic against a line of enemy shadowhunters and werewolves loyal to Valentine who were advancing on them; enough to stun but not to kill. He could already feel his reserves of magic emptying, it had taken a lot of energy to sustain the portals and to charm the weapons. But he could last – he _would_ last. There was no other option. He let the image of Alexander fill his mind, imagined the well of his magic deepening, filling. He sent shot after shot at their enemies, standing strong. It was for Alexander. And that was why they would win. If he focused, he could almost hear his voice, echoing their little battlefield…

No, wait. He could actually hear Alec’s voice, shouting from far away.

“ _Jace!_ ”

He whipped around, frantically scanning for the source of that yell. He didn’t have to look long, it was as though his senses were attuned to his shadowhunter. They were all there, Alec, Isabelle and Jace. Jace was a little further into the water, his hands curled into fists at his sides as he glared over the lake. Magnus turned his attention to the opposite shore, and gasped.

Clarissa, and Simon. They were supposed to be safe.

He looked back towards Alec, Izzy and Jace, for once at a loss at what to do. They were evenly matched in this battle, they had a chance at winning. But it had been a mere diversion, it turned out. Valentine had been concentrating his attentions elsewhere. Whatever they did, they must not rise to the bait. They must not…

A familiar face caught his attention and he saw that Tessa had joined them. Jace’s face was a picture of anguish as he spoke to her, his sharp gestures revealing his anxiety. Magnus looked back towards Valentine. He was laughing.

Tessa nodded once, her mouth a thin line, and with a flick of her hand created a portal. Magnus’s mind went blank as they disappeared through it, all four of them, appearing on the opposite bank. All thoughts of rationality and strategy left him as he saw Alec, his Alec, standing mere feet away from the madman hellbent on making the world anew in his name.

With a gesture a portal flamed into existence and he stepped through it, ears deaf to warning cries behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> N.B. I actually hate writing battle scenes. I just don't really know how to?! I guess practice makes perfect? Anyways, one more chapter! And its going to be a big one I think, to make up for the last two slightly shorter updates and also to fit in everything I have planned ;) After that there will be an epilogue, and its my goal to finish this fic by the end of next week! Because after that I'm busy. Uni, work, life etc.! Wish me luck and godspeed for these last 10,000 or so words to flow :'D


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE END. Lots of violence and blood, be warned. Little bit of angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, this story is not entirely over, despite the chapter summary. It is the final chapter, but I had intended for the epilogue to also be posted by the end of this week. However, life intervened... I am going to be writing it over the next few days and it will hopefully be up within the next week. There is a lot of violence and gore in this chapter but the epilogue will be all fluff and happiness :D

Everyone on the opposite shore froze when Magnus stepped out of the portal.

It was a world away from the battle on the other side, only distant clashes of sword against sword reaching them due to the vastness of Lake Lyn. It had been a hundred years since he’d stood here, and though he’d done his best to forget their final stand of the Mortal War, all the memories came rushing back in. He met Tessa’s haunted eyes and knew that she could see it too; hear the screeching of the demons that had filled the skies and the trees, as they had backed them towards the water. They could hear the cries of the Nephilim becoming overwhelmed, their runes no longer sufficient against the gross onslaught of hell’s minions. It had been suffocating, that day, on this shore.

But this was different. This was quiet, but it felt infinitely more deadly. One wrong move and Clary and Simon would lose their lives, with a mere word from Valentine. Magnus dragged his gaze from Clary’s terrified one to Alec’s, who was looking at him in horror. He felt foolish for coming here, for rising to the bait. But he would do it again a thousand times, for the mere sliver of a chance he had to save their lives.

Valentine laughed, high and clear and cold. It sent shivers down Magnus’s spine that had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“So kind of you to join us, Mr. Bane.” He said. His tone was light and welcoming but the glint in his eyes was anything but. “I had hoped you might answer my rather unorthodox summons.”

He gestured to his two men holding Clary and Simon, and his nonchalance made Magnus see red.

“She is your daughter.” He spat, through clenched teeth.

Valentine sighed, clasping his hands in a show of placidity.

“I gave her the choice to come quietly. Unfortunately, children these days just don’t respect their parents.”

“I would show respect if there was a single shred of decency in you.” Clary hissed, her cheeks dotted red in her fury. “I cannot even express how _ashamed_ I am to call you my father.”

Her captor growled, pressing the knife’s tip further into her neck and Jace started forward, before he was pulled back by Alec. There was a glimmer of pride in his eyes amongst the worry as he looked at Clary.

Alec bent his head, whispering to him and Jace relaxed minutely.

“What do you want?” He asked Valentine, warily.

Valentine straightened up, smiling. It looked more like a leer.

“The cup.” He said, and Magnus tensed. The air felt electric, and one wrong move could prove fatal.

“And I believe that you and Mr. Bane can fetch it for me.” His gaze narrowed, flickering between the two of them.

“We can’t.” Alec spoke finally, breaking the tension in the air. Valentine focused on him, irritation colouring his amusement.

“And why would that be, Mr. Lightwood? Surely you can’t be thinking of denying your…connection” he sneered the word. “with the warlock. I have it from a very reputable source that the Mortal Cup will be attainable only by such a pair.” He leered at Tessa, who shivered visibly.

“I mean,” Alec replied, and Magnus was grateful for the distraction. Tessa was strong but it had only been recently that Valentine was her captor and torturer. “That yes, we may be able to find it. But only if we know where it _is_ , in the first place.”

Magnus caught the meaning before anyone else did.

“Tessa, GO!”

He threw up a magical barrier between them and Valentine as she turned to face him with wide eyes.

“Magnus, I can’t…I can’t leave you.” He eyes flickered to Jace. “It’s too dangerous.”

“It’s the only way, Tess.” He implored.

She took a deep breath, and acquiesced, with a nod from Jace. She cast a portal and vanished into thin air, causing Valentine to howl in anger.

“You don’t know what you’ve done, warlock!” he spat, his voice tinny and garbled through the magical protection.

“I can’t hold this for much longer,” Magnus panted. “When it drops, be ready to fight.”

Alec, Jace and Izzy nodded, hands tightening on their weapons. Magnus dropped the shield and with the same movement sent spears of magic towards the two guards holding Clary and Simon. They fell back with yells, struggling to collect themselves as Alec and Jace leapt forwards, attacking with a vengeance. Jace threw a blade to Clary and Isabelle pulled Simon behind her, her whip snapping venomously. Magnus reached for his own sword, that Alec had given him for the battle – _Just in case, Magnus. Please._ – and strode forward to engage Valentine.

He didn’t often use a sword, and it must have been decades since he’d even picked one up. But there had been a time when he’d trained with the best swordsmen that Alicante had ever seen (well, by their own words), and Will and Jem had taught him more than a few useful tricks. It was like riding a horse, he thought triumphantly as Valentine’s cold visage morphed into angered surprise at his prowess; you never truly forgot.

They were evenly matched, Magnus noted with distaste. For as good as the young shadowhunters were, and as much skill as he had accumulated, Valentine and his goons made up for in sheer brutality. The clashes of sword against sword filled the shore, as they were locked in a fight to the death. It was the kind of battle in which you could not afford to lose focus even for a moment; Magnus knew this, and yet he could not help himself.

It happened within a few moments, and began with Alec’s yell.

It was the only thing that could have broken his focus, but it worked. His heart skipped a beat, his throat constricting and he inadvertently snapped his gaze to search for Alec, to make sure he was alright. He’d just locked eyes with him, his cry the result of a heavy blow to the head, which Jace had jumped in to counter, when a searing hot pain shot through his shoulder.

Alec’s expression turned from pained to horrified as Magnus turned back to Valentine, who grinned toothily before wrenching his sword out of his shoulder.

Magnus dropped his sword, the pain in his shoulder spreading like wildfire, burning his veins, gripping his bones. He fell slowly, almost as if in slow motion, as his bones turned to jelly and his legs refused to hold him up. He couldn’t focus on any specific thing in that moment, but several were clear at the same time.

Alec’s yelling his name across the shore. Valentine’s mad laughter as he raised his sword to administer the killing blow. And the familiar flash of portal magic to his left.

Magnus disregarded them all, the pain demanding his attention. He closed his eyes, forming a last whisper of Alec’s name, waiting for the inevitable burst of pain that would liberate him from this life.

But it never came.

Instead, the grating clash of metal on metal reverberated mere inches away from him, and he heard Valentine’s exclamation of surprise.

“Prepare to lose once and for all, Morgenstern.” A vaguely familiar voice growled.

Magnus opened his eyes groggily, his vision blurring. But it was clear enough to make out a bulky, heavily armoured figure in front of him, sword locked with Valentines.

“Not likely, Lightwood.”

Lightwood…Magnus’s heart clenched. Had Alec come to save him? But it was impossible…he’d been too far away…

His eyes flickered closed again, the pain radiating from his shoulder threatening to drag him under.

“Magnus!” A very familiar voice hissed. “Magnus, please. Wake up!”

It sounded like Alexander…Magnus’s lips formed a smile at the blessed hallucination. He drifted further in to the sweet painless darkness, but was rudely shaken away from it.

“Magnus, please! Open your eyes.” The sweet voice begged, and he couldn’t help but comply.

A pale face hovered over him, clouded with fear, normally bright blue eyes dark and shadowed.

“Magnus.” Alec sighed, relief evident in his tone.

“What…” Magnus mumbled groggily.

“Shh, don’t speak. Just…” Alec cast his gaze around in desperation, before returning to Magnus. The pain in his shoulder had returned in full force, but he was certain that nothing could make him close his eyes on Alexander.

“Can you move?” Alec asked, cradling his head with one hand and supporting his back with the other.

Magnus swallowed, taking a deep breath, and bracing himself before nodding.

With Alec’s help, and a lot of focus on his part, he managed to stumble to his feet and throw his good arm across Alec’s shoulder. They moved slowly, Alec guiding him towards the trees, away from the water. Izzy and Jace were still locked in mortal combat several metres away, and closer to them, Valentine was fighting his mystery saviour. Magnus blinked a couple of times as Alec helped him to sit down, resting back against a rock, to make sure that his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

“Is that…?”

“My father.” Alec finished, quietly. “But that doesn’t matter, Magnus…you have to heal yourself. Please.”

He looked close to tears, and Magnus wondered how bad his injury was. Fairly bad, if the trail of dark blood they’d left upon the sand and pebbles was any indication.

Nevertheless, “I don’t have any magic left.” He confessed, smiling sadly. “I’ll be fine…you have to get out of here – ”

Alec looked at him as though he was insane.

“Are you joking? Magnus – I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

“Alec, please…”

“Take my strength.” Alec murmured.

Magnus’s eyes fluttered up to meet his.

“You barely have any left yourself.”

“Take my strength.” Alec repeated, his voice even softer.

He reached out to grasp Magnus’s cold palm, his hand slippery with Magnus’s blood. He could feel it seeping out, his heart pumping it through the gaping wound left by Valentine’s sword with every beat. Magnus swallowed, shaking his head, trying to ignore the pain.

“Alec…”

“Take it, Magnus. Please.” Alec’s voice broke on the last word. “I don’t want to live if I have to live without you.”

Words escaped him, and he felt suspended in time. Never had he ever heard such a declaration, from any of his lovers. He hadn’t even known that he’d wanted it, for someone to feel such a thing for him. It hit him, the full force of their shared connection, washing over him. It was as sweet as the pain was sour, and enveloped them in their own little world.

He curled his fingers around Alec’s, igniting the channel of energy between them.

“I love you.” He whispered, and closed his eyes as Alec’s hand tightened around his, and his electrifying, angelic energy poured into his veins. He could feel his magic sparking, rejoicing in the connection. It had never felt like this, with anyone he’d performed the ritual with. It was like his body was welcoming Alec home, that the combining of their essences was the completion of both their souls.

He could feel the steady flow of blood from his shoulder lessening, could feel the wound closing and his skin knitting itself back together.

He broke the connection as soon as he was healed, not wanting to drain Alec any more than was necessary. He felt Alec slump against him when he did and his eyes flew open in alarm, only to meet a set of blue ones bright and sparkling, the way they were when he dreamed of them.

The hand he’d just dropped came to rest on his cheek, and his fingers felt warm and alive to the touch. Alec’s face was radiant, shining with joy and hope.

“I love you too.” He said, and in that moment, everything was perfect.

 

.

 

The moment didn’t last long, but Alec couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed.

So much had happened in so short a time, and so much was still against them.

But… Magnus _loved_ him.

Love.

It was something he’d never thought that he’d have, not truly. And even when he’d been certain of his feelings for Magnus, back in the dungeons beneath the castle, he hadn’t dared to hope that Magnus’s feelings for him might reach that depth. He wasn’t ignorant to the fact that Magnus had been alive a lot longer than he had, had lived several lifetimes worth of experiences that his would never equal up to. He had made his peace with that, and been prepared to accept whatever form of relationship Magnus wanted with him.

He didn’t have too much time to ruminate on this, however. His ecstasy at their declarations and his relief at Magnus’s healing were short-lived; outside their bubble, the battle was still raging on.

There had been a moment of pure terror, when he’d been hit so hard around the head that he saw stars, and when he’d seen Valentine’s sword impaling Magnus. But thankfully Tessa had chosen an opportune moment to reappear, bringing back-up in the form of his father.

He’d only had eyes for Magnus though, entirely focused on getting to him and healing him. Now that they were both relatively safe, their attention turned to the fight once more. Many more had joined it, reinforcements from the army his father commanded and Valentine’s troops alike. Thankfully Clary and Simon were nowhere to be seen, and Alec vaguely remembered Tessa pulling them through the portal when she exited for the second time.

Alec should have been relieved that his father was fighting, that he’d brought help along to them, but despite the increase in their numbers Valentine’s fighters were pushing them back.

His head was still ringing and though his shoulder was no longer holding him back, Magnus was in no condition to fight.

A flash of black and silver caught his attention as Izzy whirled past, her whip stained red with blood.

“Alec,” she gasped. “Use it! End this.”

Alec swallowed and nodded before she dived back into the fray, turning to Magnus.

“What did she mean?” Magnus asked. “Use what?”

Alec wordlessly pulled a little pouch out of his pocket, casting it aside to reveal a small compass in his palm.

Magnus’s eyes widened as he beheld it.

“Gift from the Seelie Queen.” Alec told him, eyes on the wildly swinging needle of the compass. “It can – ”

“Guide the way to the thing you most desire.” Magnus finished, a spark in his previously dull, pained eyes.

He reached out to cup Alec’s palm in his, not caring to suppress the shiver that ran through him at the contact.

They both stared as the needle swung, this way and that, until it finally settled on a direction that led them further into the trees.

Alec cast one last glance back to the shore, sending a silent prayer for his siblings to be alright, before plunging into the misty darkness with Magnus at his side.

The sounds of battle faded as soon as they entered the cover of the trees. Perhaps it was a Seelie magic, Alec thought. He felt self-conscious and twitchy, as though he were being watched. But every time he looked, there was no-one to be seen. It was cold but Magnus’s hand was warm under his own, where they held the compass that was directing their way.

It wasn’t a long walk, and Magnus told him that they had all been exhausted after the battle before. Tessa and Will must have stumbled only a little ways into the forest before choosing a location to hide the cup.

The needle of the compass began to swing wildly in a circle when they reached a small mound of boulders, and looking back Alec could still see a sliver of light from where the trees gave way to the rocky shore.

“Here.” He said, gazing upon the rocks. They looked mundane, or as mundane as anything was capable of looking in the midst of the Seelie forest. He supposed it was smart, choosing an insignificant location for an object of such power.

“What do we do now?”

He looked up at Magnus, who was gazing at the rocks with a frown.

“I’m not sure. This is new to me…this is Angel magic.”

Alec looked back down.

“Well, maybe if we…wait. Can you feel that?”

He dropped to his knees, placing a hand on the smallest boulder, smooth, cold and mossy. It was faint, but tangible. An almost imperceptible hum of energy through the air, something sharp but sweet, like a sustained high note played on a violin.

“Yes.” Magnus knelt next to him, reaching out a hand to lay beside his.

It happened instantaneously, almost as though it had been waiting for them, impatient and urgent. A dull crack sounded as the rock split beneath their palms, and revealed a hollowed-out centre. There, laying on a frayed piece of white cloth, was the mortal cup.

“It’s smaller than I imagined it.” Alec said in awe, looking upon it.

“It’s smaller than I remember it.” Magnus agreed, shaking his head. “But what trouble it has caused.”

They didn’t waste time after that, hurrying back to the scene of the battle, leaving the hiding place carefully sealed up with Magnus’s magic. Alec wasn’t sure how they were going to implement the next stage of their plan, but he was determined, and bolstered by their success.

_They had found the mortal cup._

 

.

 

They’d only been gone for a few minutes by the time they returned to the shore, and the battle was still raging. The shore was full, Tessa had been busy transporting their army across the lake to help but more of Valentine’s army had also arrived to back him up. Alec pulled his sword from its sheath and gritted his teeth before plunging into the melee, Magnus right behind him. By a stroke of luck he managed to fight his way through to Izzy and Jace, who were fighting back to back right in the thick of it.

“Is it done?” Izzy yelled, her dark braid swinging as she dodged a blade aimed at her chest.

“Yes.” Alec gasped, parrying another from a grim-faced vampire who aimed for her neck. “But we need the sword.”

“I’m on it.” Jace cut in, quickly disarming and knocking out his opponent.

Alec nodded, continuing his path to the lake on the offensive, Magnus at his back defending them both. When they reached it they turned, catching sight of Jace’s blonde head alongside his father’s. Though there were two of them fighting Valentine, they were evenly matched. Jace, though proficient, had decades less experience and Robert hadn’t fought in battle since Valentine had been locked away. Alec’s breath caught in his throat as he watched, itching to join in but not wanting to compromise the dangerous cargo he had tucked in a pocket inside his tunic.

Jace swung once, twice, three times, but failed to relieve Valentine of the Mortal Sword strapped to his back. Valentine seemed to realise what he was doing and turned to focus on Jace entirely, forcing him back with a series of brutal thrusts and parries. All they could do was watch with bated breath as Jace went on the defensive, and Valentine was so focused on bringing him down that he failed to see Robert approaching from behind.

With a great swing Robert’s sword flashed down and cut through the leather strap that held the Mortal Sword to Valentine’s back. In a heroic move that Alec would never forget he grabbed it as it fell and turned to throw it like a javelin the few metres that separated them, before anyone had realised what had happened.

Alec saw the sword arc over the clashing armies as though in slow motion. At the same time, he saw Jace fall back, hitting the ground after a particularly vicious move executed by Valentine. Valentine turned in the same movement, his cold eyes furious as it tracked the path of the mortal sword towards Alec. A furied scream ripped from him and he thrust his sword forward, straight into Robert’s back.

All the air left Alec’s lungs as he beheld the scene, the look of bewildered shock on his father’s face as the tip of Valentine’s sword burst forth from his chest with a spray of dark blood. He heard himself scream as though from far away, as though he were standing at one end of a long tunnel. The sword disappeared as Valentine yanked it out, a malicious grin peeling his lips back from his teeth as the King fell to his knees before him, his lifeblood soaking the rocks and sand.

He felt a tugging on his arm but resisted it, his muscles flaring into action as he tried to leap forward, Valentine’s maniacal laughter echoing in his ears, his father’s body crumpling down onto the shore, spent and empty.

“Alec…Alec…”

The voice cut through the horror and shock in his mind, the tugging on his arm more insistently.

“Alec, please. Look at me.”

Magnus.

He finally complied, turning to meet eyes filled with tears and a face stricken with pity.

“Alec, I’m sorry.” Magnus whispered, his hand coming up to cradle his face. It felt burning hot against the ice cold of his skin. “I’m so sorry, but we need to do this. Now.” His voice was soft but firm, and managed to spur Alec into action.

He shook himself, gritting his teeth and turning his back on the battle. He filed it away for later…he would deal with it later. Now, they had a war to end.

Magnus was holding the Mortal Sword gingerly, and away from his body. Alec noted the presence of Tessa, Catarina and Ragnor around them, pouring their magic into a protective shield that separated them from the battle, creating a little pocket of calm between the fighting and the lake.

Alec reached inside his tunic to pull out the mortal cup as they stepped forward together, feeling his heart settle into a rhythm of calm, despite the enormity of the task they were about to attempt.

“Ready?” Magnus asked, squeezing his hand.

“As I’ll ever be.” Alec sighed, giving him a half-smile. He might have filed the recent events away in his mind but he couldn’t ignore the heaviness in his heart.

With a shared nod they walked to the water’s edge, and stepped forward again until the lake water soaked into their shoes. They knelt as one, bringing the mortal instruments down to submerge them in the water.

It seemed silent then, a world suspended in time. Alec held his breath, watching the ripples spread out across the still surface of the water, little air bubbles rising from the submerged instruments.

For a moment, he thought that nothing was going to happen. Time seemed to stretch before them, empty of promises. Then, he felt it. A wavering, a flicker of power through the air.

His blood felt light and electric in his veins, not unlike the sensation Magnus ignited in him. It was heady, dizzying. His vision blurred for a moment, before a bright flash of light blinded him momentarily. When it cleared, he was certain that he’d finally lost it, that the over-stimulation of events so forth had resulted in a hallucination. But as he glanced sideways to Magnus, he saw that he too, was gazing open mouthed at the apparition before them.

The Angel had risen from the lake; or rather descended from heaven, and was glorious. Too bright to look at directly Alec had to focus on the water, and the golden reflection within it.

“Alexander Lightwood;” a mighty voice echoed within his mind. “and Magnus Bane. Of Angel blood and Demon blood combined, you may ask of me a single thing.”

Alec looked at Magnus then, and a soft smile was all he needed.

“Angel,” he began, not quite believing what was happening. “I ask that you destroy the mortal instruments.”

There was a pause then, his words hanging in the air. The Angel almost seemed surprised, though it’s celestial voice betrayed no emotion.

“The instruments were gifted to your people. Have they been of no use?”

“They have.” Alec was quick to answer. “They have helped us plenty in the past. But now we have strong wards that keep demons from our realm, and there will always be those who seek to use the power to destroy. I do not believe that was heaven’s intention.”

“Heaven has no intentions in the mortal realm.” The Angel boomed, and Alec shivered. “What you do with the power is your choice. If the instruments are destroyed, the wards will weaken. They will require regular strengthening, and your people will once again be required to fight.”

Alec faltered, but felt a warm hand squeezing his.

“It is better to answer our calling than to harness heaven’s power to destroy.” He said, his voice stronger and more confident. “I ask you please, to destroy the mortal instruments.”

“Very well.”

And just like that, it was over. The angel disappeared and a single ripple spread from the middle of the lake, the surface still once more after it washed over the shore. Alec reached into the water, feeling around, but the sword and the cup had disappeared. He gasped in relief as he stood on shaky legs, turning to help Magnus up.

“It’s over.” Magnus told him, and they embraced.

“Alec, Magnus!”

They didn’t have much time to breathe before Catarina’s yell caught their attention, and they turned to see the protective barrier around them failing. It didn’t matter though, because the fighting had ceased. Everyone had seen the rising of the angel, it seemed, the awe and horror on the faces of shadowhunters and downworlders alike starkly evident.

But Alec noted this all in the periphery of his vision. Because striding forward, the promise of death in his eyes, was Valentine, the blood of the King still dripping off his blade. He saw Izzy and Jace racing to meet him, but Valentine was too close. He saw spears of light from Ragnor and Catarina flashing around him, but they bounced off harmlessly. Then, a growl and heavy thuds of paws against the ground were all he heard before a giant wolf crashed into Valentine, sending them both to the ground and his sword sprawling. Valentine’s mouth opened, his eyes widening in surprise but before he could say or do anything the wolf’s fangs flashed as they buried themselves into his neck and ripped, blood spraying forth.

The wolf backed away, its tail swinging and teeth still bared as the light faded from Valentine’s eyes. It curled in on itself and shifted, and Luke was left standing over Valentine’s body, cold hatred in his eyes. The shore was silent once more, before weapons began clattering to the ground.

Alec let out a breath of relief, feeling exhaustion seep into his body and he slumped back. Magnus’s arms encircled him and his body was warm and hard, the comfort exacerbated by the relief they felt.

Now, it truly was over.

 

.

 

They didn’t linger at the lake.

Alec made sure to stay until most of Valentine’s army had been rounded up, but to his relief Lydia took charge of escorting them to Alicante to await trial. Many of them disappeared before they could be taken, the warlocks portalling away and the fastest vampires disappearing into the night. Nobody had much energy to pursue them; they had won, that was enough. Justice would be served in due time.

He helped with the dead, instructing soldiers in his father’s army ( _his_ army, he corrected himself, a spasm of pain gripping his heart) to bring them to one side, to identify them and prepare burials. He couldn’t bring himself to go near his father’s body though, watching from afar as four soldiers lifted him onto a stretcher and carried him through a portal to Alicante.

He would have stayed longer but it was then that his vision began to blur, and Magnus pulled him gently away. They met with Jace and Izzy, stepped gratefully through the portal that Ragnor conjured up back to his house, ready to sleep for the next few days.

Alec still couldn’t quite believe it, what had happened at the lake. Perhaps he would when he woke up, he thought to himself as he curled into Magnus’s side. If it turned out to be true.

He hadn’t bothered to disguise his residence for that night, following Magnus straight into his room. Clary and Simon had welcomed them back, where they had been waiting on tenterhooks ever since Tessa had spirited them away. There hadn’t been a great reunion though, perhaps that would come when they woke up.

Everything could be dealt with in the morning, Alec thought, as he drifted into the gentle embrace of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the story is done!!! Well, except the epilogue. But that's just tying up loose ends really, and me indulging in some fluff. Because all stories need to end with fluff, in my opinion.
> 
> Also, how good was the season finale?!?? All I wanted was for Malec to make up. Now I'm good until season three.


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusions, coronations, lots of fluff and sexy times too...forcing myself to live up to the M rating I gave this fic and practice writing smut! Enjoy ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I said this would be up within a week and its taken two...I flew halfway around the world for a study trip and severely underestimated the amount of free time I would have, and the fact that I've just spend a week in a tiny village with very limited wifi :') but it's done now! I have really enjoyed writing this fic, and I am so so pleased to have finished it and to have hit my goal (between 90-100K). This is by far the longest thing I have ever written and while it is far from perfect, it proves that I am capable of writing a somewhat coherent story of this length! So, personal challenge met. Thank you all for reading, every one of you, it means so much. Especially those who have been reading every week and sending me such lovely comments! Those really helped pull me through some severe writing blocks and bouts of procrastination. I hope you enjoy this last little bit! Much love <3

The week after the battle passed in the blink of an eye.

The first day had been tough; struggling not only with exhaustion and aching bodies but the inevitable pain of grieving over the fallen. None of them were exempt; though Valentine had not succeeded in his ultimate goal he had managed to take many from them before he’d been taken down himself.

Alec almost wished that he’d been the one to land the killing blow, but he was glad that Luke had gotten his chance. There’d been decades of bad blood between them; Valentine’s betrayal of his friend resulting in the attack that turned him into a wolf. Then he’d turned on Jocelyn, after she’d run from him and Luke had risked his life to hide her and her unborn daughter away from the rest of the world. He’d been guarding Clary and Simon that night, and Alec knew that she was the closest thing to a daughter he’d ever known. It was only due to Valentine’s eagerness to raise the Angel, Luke had told them, that he was still alive. He’d almost been struck hard enough to kill him, but he’d only been knocked unconscious. He shouldn’t have been able to stand when he’d woken up, Catarina confirmed the next day. But adrenaline – and pure, unadulterated anger burning through his veins – had given him the energy he’d needed to transform into his sharp-toothed wolf-form and rip out Valentine’s throat.

It was his right, Alec acquiesced. Luke had deserved to be the one to end it, and it had surely made his reunion with his family afterwards that much sweeter. It hadn’t taken them long to recover Jocelyn; now that his supporters were all either dead, captured or had fled, there was no protection around her. The three of them had been gone ever since, relishing in their reunion, and beginning to rebuild the house that Valentine had burned down. They’d be back tomorrow though, in time for the coronation.

Alec’s stomach twisted at that thought.

He’d always known that he was going to be King one day, but that day had seemed so far off. He was barely eighteen years old, he had expected his father to remain on the throne for at least another ten to fifteen years. And some part of him – though he’d never truly acknowledged that part – hadn’t expected that the throne would pass to him. He’d always thought that he’d fall short on some front; not strong enough or decisive enough or…the list was endless.  Even, though he’d _really_ never allowed himself to contemplate this, not straight enough. He could have sworn he’d seen it in his parents’ eyes sometimes, a flicker of disappointment, terrifying him that they would ask him outright one day. But they never had, and their reactions at Magnus’s trial had more than assured him that they’d never had a clue. Not that that thought had been at all comforting at the time.

So although he had been born the Crown Prince, born to assume this role, here he was, on the night before his coronation, feeling supremely underprepared for it.

Could he really do that? Could he really…be King?

He was still processing his father’s untimely death, his last (well, some could claim only) act of heroism.

Alec’s stomach twisted every moment he thought of it, which was basically every moment.

His father had saved them, specifically in that moment, had saved Magnus. He’d atoned for his treatment of them and then some, but Alec had never gotten to reconcile with him personally. He could still see the look of pained shock frozen onto his father’s face, see the maniacal laugh lighting up Valentine’s face as he yanked his blade from his father’s back, and he fell to the floor…never to rise again.

It was bittersweet, Alec thought, closing his eyes. How a single moment in time changed everything… a moment of redemption the second before death had changed the person his father was in his mind for the better, yet sentenced Alec to live forevermore with a dull ache in his stomach whenever he thought of it.

The funeral had been large, despite the number of other funerals being held since the night of the battle. There had been a sea of white stretching from the Royal Mausoleum right to the city gates, headed by the Queen – soon to be the Queen Mother, Alec reminded himself. Maryse had borne it well, the iron-clast façade she had long since perfected never cracking, not even once. But Alec felt it, in her fingers. A small tremor, as she clasped his hands when he returned to the Castle the day after the battle. She’d done the same to Jace and Isabelle, and they appreciated it. They wouldn’t ask for anything more, not when she was mourning – and in private, at that. But it was a welcome, and a thanks – for returning. Alec hadn’t had much contact with her since, and wasn’t quite sure what she’d have to say to him when she emerged from her rooms, but he had been informed that she would be attending the ceremony, so he guessed he would find out tomorrow.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t head the creak of wood behind him, from the slightly uneven floorboards in the middle of his room. He was startled for a moment when warm hands slid around his waist, catching himself and relaxing back against a hard body beneath silken bedclothes. A smile played on his lips and he tipped his head to the side as Magnus nosed at his neck, trying to suppress a shiver as the barest of kisses was placed upon his skin.

“Alexander.” Magnus murmured. Alec felt rather than heard the vibrations of his voice from where his mouth was pressed to his neck. “Come back to bed.”

Alec huffed, distracted but incredulous.

“Really? Did I not satisfy you earlier?”

He grinned, twisting in Magnus’s arms to bring his own up to rest on his broad shoulders. He’d long stopped pretending that they weren’t one of his favourite parts of Magnus’s body, unable to hide what the rounded expanse of lithe muscle under caramel skin did to him.

Magnus darted forward, stealing a kiss from his lips. Alec laughed as he was surprised, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through him despite the fact that they had kissed extensively – and much more – just a few hours before.

“What can I say?” Magnus smirked, fixing him with a seductive gaze. “I just can’t get enough… _Your Highness_.”

Alec blushed and squeaked as Magnus followed this by leaning in to his neck again, this time kissing and sucking on a bruise that he’d bitten into Alec as they’d reached their peaks that evening.

“Not – Ah – not Your Highness yet.” Alec gasped, feebly pushing Magnus away with one hand and pulling him in with the other.

Magnus laughed, low and throaty. It did things to Alec’s insides.

“Does that mean I can tell you what to do one last time?”

Alec pursed his lips, trying not to grin. He dragged Magnus up to look him in the eye.

“You’re insatiable.”

“And you’re thinking too hard.” Magnus countered, his hands soft now, stroking at the strip of exposed skin at Alec’s hips. “I could hear it in my sleep.”

Alec’s small smile wavered, his worries piercing back through.

“What if…” he faltered. “What if…I’m not ready? It’s too soon. It wasn’t meant to be like this.”

He dropped his gaze and his hands, fiddling with the strings on Magnus’s bedclothes.

“Alec,” Magnus’s voice was soft now, none of the gravelly seduction of before. “I don’t think anybody is ever ready to be King. And I may be a little biased, but I know without a doubt that you will rise to the challenge to become the greatest King that Idris has ever seen. Not for any great feat;” he continued, when Alec opened his mouth to argue. “But for this.”

He brought a hand up to lay on Alec’s chest, just over his heart.

“You have the greatest heart I have ever known. And I want to you know just how honoured I feel that you have chosen to share it with me.”

Alec blinked, his eyes suddenly filled with moisture.

“I don’t share it with you.”

He caught Magnus’s hand as he faltered, looking unsure for the first time since Alec had known him.

“I don’t share it with you because…it’s yours. All yours.”

He watched him carefully, still testing the waters of what he could say, how much he could say without scaring Magnus away or making him uncomfortable, even after all they had gone through and confessed during the battle. He watched as Magnus’s face passed through the emotions; shock, happiness, gratitude…before landing on his favourite, the soft but bright incredulity that Alec had come to identify as love.

“Well, good.” Magnus said, his voice thick. “Because mine is yours.”

Alec wasted no more time after that, bringing Magnus into his arms once more. He spared a moment to revel in this, in the mere fact that Magnus – his boyfriend, his lover, his partner – was in his castle, in his bedchamber, on the night before his coronation, was with him openly and amorously in the same place he had spent so many years denying himself, denying his happiness.

Magnus huffed, rubbing their noses together.

“I know that you’re having a moment Alexander, but if you don’t kiss me right now I swear I will not attend tomorrow.”

Alec laughed, and surged forward to attach their lips together, swallowing the little pleased noise that Magnus made.

“Now you have to come.” He said breathlessly, breaking away.

“Dammit.” But Magnus sounded anything but displeased, smiling and eagerly chasing after his mouth.

Alec lost himself in it, in kissing Magnus, luxuriating in the slow but heady drag of lips against lips, in the electric sparks that Magnus’s fingers left in their wake, as they trailed over his now-heated skin. He craved it like he craved oxygen to breathe, water to drink. Magnus’s moans were the elixir of life and he collected them, one after the other, always needing another to survive.

It didn’t take long for their kisses to quicken, for moans and gasps to become their music, their symphony. Soon their clothes once again littered the floor and Alec’s head had hit the pillows, Magnus’s body stretched out over him.

“Let me take care of you.” Magnus whispered, his breath tickling Alec’s ear and sending little bolts of anticipation right to his groin.

Alec could barely nod his assent, already lost to the sensations Magnus was igniting within him. There was more to come though, so much more to come. His heartrate quickened as Magnus slowly moved down his body, taking his time to kiss and drag his teeth over every inch of skin, until Alec’s nerve endings were almost painful from overstimulation. By the time he reached his thighs he was shaking, broken moans torn from his core in-between begging Magnus to get on with it, _stop_ _teasing._

Magnus just laughed, his eyes twinkling devilishly.

“You love it, though.”

And, well, Alec couldn’t lie.

Magnus finally lifted his head, kissing his lower stomach softly before sinking right down onto his manhood, ripping a pleasured cry from Alec’s lips. Magnus held his gaze, his green eyes narrow and bright. Alec’s eyes were hooded and dark but fixed on his, his mouth open and his chest heaving. Magnus flicked his tongue, hundreds of years worth of dalliances resulting in a technique that brought Alec to a quivering, sheet-clenching climax in a matter of minutes.

He dragged a hand over his mouth, licking his lips and grinning as he climbed back up, laying down besides his lover as he came down from the height of pleasure, slowly blinking his eyes open.

“That – that was…” Alec murmured, before reaching out a lazy hand to pull Magnus’s face to his, kissing him deeply. When words failed…

He brought a hand between Magnus’s legs, to where he was still heavy and erect against Alec’s thigh. Breaking their kiss he gave a few gentle tugs, watching Magnus shiver and close his eyes. He let go and shifted their position, nudging Magnus until he was propped up over him once more. Not breaking their gaze, he brought one of Magnus’s hands to his leg as he lifted it, hooking it around Magnus’s hips and guiding him between his legs. Magnus’s eyes widened as he caught his meaning.

“Are you sure?” He faltered, ready to roll off and forget Alec ever implied anything.

But Alec nodded, drawing him closer until their chests touched and he felt a slight pressure at the opening between his legs.

“I’m sure.” He whispered, and Magnus surged down to kiss him thoroughly.

He took his time, making sure that Alec was more than prepared. Even so, he clenched his teeth as Magnus entered him for the first time, having underestimated how it would feel, how they would feel, fitting together in this way. Alec breathed deeply through it, only a mere flicker of pain showing in his eyes at first. But Magnus had paused for a moment, giving him time to adjust to the foreign intrusion, and after a moment Alec pulled him in once more. Then, it was easy. It hadn’t taken them long at all to find a rhythm, for they fit together perfectly, like two long-lost puzzle pieces finally slotted together. It was slow but heart-wrenchingly passionate, gentle but firm thrusts hitting all the right spots, stealing the breath from Alec’s lungs before he could take it. He didn’t care though, it didn’t matter. Of what importance was oxygen when he had Magnus, all golden muscle and gleaming skin, forehead against his, chest sliding on his own, filling him up, holding him, loving him. He was sure that Magnus would have bruises on his shoulders from where Alec had been grasping them so tightly, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“ _Alexander_ ,” he gasped, before surging down to claim Alec’s mouth, their tongues battling furiously as they neared completion.

The peak was like none other Alec had ever experienced, and he had gotten a lot of experience since that first night with Magnus. His whole body froze, muscles tensing in an iron grip around Magnus’s body, clenching around him, holding him tight, shuddering and gasping into his mouth as he let go. Magnus was right there with him, his body convulsing once, twice, three times as he moaned Alec’s name, desperately, sweetly, lovingly.

It was strange, Magnus thought as they lay together after, bathed in sweat but thoroughly sated and happy. It was strange how you could do the same things with different people, and the experiences were worlds apart. He had never felt anything like he felt with Alec. Nothing had ever come close.

It took him a long time to fall asleep that night, despite the fatigue that had blanketed him. He was much too consumed with gazing at the soon-to-be King lying next to him, with pink cheeks and mussed hair and a smile in his slumber.

 

.

Alec tried not to yawn as he stood waiting in the chamber behind the throne room.

He supposed that was a good thing, having been kept up late with Magnus the night before as well as thoroughly exhausting his energy meant that he had woken up later than usual, leaving less time to worry about the day ahead, and less energy to spend on anxiety.

The coronation was scheduled for noon, and it was currently a quarter to eleven. Magnus had only just left him, along with Isabelle and Jace as they went to take their seats. Alec was alone, and in a matter of minutes he would be saying his vows in front of his people, vows that would hold him to a life of service as their King.

That part didn’t bother him as much as it used to. It used to feel like an unbearable weight hovering over him, threatening to crush him when the time came. For all the council meetings that his father had had him sit in on, all the visits they’d made to neighbouring nobles, all the instruction in history and politics that he’d been given, he had never felt as though he could measure up to the throne, and what it would demand of him. He wasn’t quite sure what had changed…perhaps nothing in particular, but a whole lot of little things. He had made a choice, all those weeks ago, to break away from his parents and protect his realm. Though it hadn’t always gone to plan, everything had worked out okay. But not by his own merit only, mostly through working with others, through learning and adapting. Through the sharing of trust and knowledge.

His back straightened and his breath evened out. That was it, the key. That was why he could do this, why he could be king. Because it wasn’t just him. He wasn’t the owner of this land, or these people. He was merely assuming a title, a job, swearing to work with them and beside them, so that together they could hopefully create a unified and harmonious land in which everyone could prosper.

“Alec?” He turned toward the sound of his mother’s voice. It was softer than he remembered and so was her expression. “It’s time.”

The coronation itself passed quickly, as though in the blink of an eye, Alec remembered it after. He looked out over the sea of faces, over the crowd of shadowhunters and downworlders alike, intermixed, such a scene that hadn’t been witnessed since shortly after the Mortal War. He’d managed to pick out the faces of his loved ones, their smiles bright beacons for him. He smirked inwardly to himself as he saw a tear slip down Jace’s cheek. He would tease him about that later. Being King wouldn’t change how he treated his brother.

All too soon it was over, he had said his vows and the crown had been placed upon his head. He grimaced inwardly at the uncomfortable weight, but smiled none the less. It was a symbol, nothing more. He wouldn’t have to wear it again. He cleared his throat as the clapping and cheering died down, ignoring the wolf-whistles that came from Jace’s direction. A bundle of nerves coiled in his stomach; this was what he had truly been nervous about; his first public address as King.

He cleared his throat as silence fell, hundreds of faces looking up to him. He took a deep breath, and began.

“Thank you all for coming. I – I hope you all feel welcome here. And…” he faltered, coughing to ease the tightness in his throat. What was he thinking? He couldn’t do this. He was no King. He was…

His eyes landed on the one gaze in the vast audience that he really wanted to see, Magnus’s warm green gaze holding his own gently. He nodded slightly, and Alec took another deep breath. He wasn’t sure if he could do this, but he could at least try.

“I stand before you today not as your King, but as your equal. Because none of us are better than another; not for blood or power or status. I want us to work together, I want to rebuild the unified nation we once were. Because I would not be standing here today if it weren’t for unity, if it weren’t for a very diverse group of people I have come to know and love over the past weeks. Valentine stood for hatred. Valentine stood for division among us. And that brought nothing but pain to us all. I want us to relearn our strengths, to share our similarities and rejoice in our differences, together.”

He paused for a moment as a smattering of applause broke out across the room, feeling his heart race inside his chest.

“I won’t keep you all long, but to end I want to announce some changes in my council, appointments I hope will be the first steps to implementing this unity. First off, the position of Chief Advisor. I will be keeping the current Advisors to the throne, as they served my father well. But without the council and help of this person, I’m not sure things would have turned out the way they did. My Chief Advisor, if she will deign to take the job, will be Lady Lydia Branwell.”

He smiled at the shock on her face, from where she stood in the front row, beside her father. She was back in her tightly corseted pastel dresses, and looked thoroughly uncomfortable. Alec hoped that the position – which was above her fathers – would give her the freedom she deserved in life.

“Next, to address the failing of the wards after the destruction of the Mortal Instruments, I will be forming a taskforce whose job it shall be to strengthen them, and train others to do the same across the world. Magnus Bane shall head this taskforce,” he had volunteered for the job before Alec had even asked, and he was grateful. Having been the one to cast them in the first place, Magnus knew best. “And we will be taking applications over the coming weeks for anyone – warlock, shadowhunter or seelie – who wishes to be a part of this team.”

“Next, I can announce that we will be rebuilding the Spiral Labyrinth, which was destroyed some weeks ago in an attack by Valentine. Tessa Gray will be overseeing this, and any warlocks who wish to help or enrol can report to her.”

Alec paused for a moment, knowing that his next item may be the most difficult to pass, but he was nothing if not determined to try. He’d sat down with Jace, Izzy, Lydia, Catarina and Maia, and they’d all decided that it needed to happen.

“On the topic of education,” he began, slowly but clearly. “I will be setting up a school. A school for shadowhunters, warlocks, seelies, vampires and werewolves alike. We need to start learning about each other, learning _with_ each other. This will not be compulsory, but entrance by choice. I hope that many will be open to the opportunity. Heading this school will be Catarina Loss and Ragnor Fell, and among the teachers who have signed up, Jocelyn Fairchild, Luke Garroway, Aline Penhallow and Helen Blackthorn.”

Now that Valentine was gone, both Luke and Jocelyn had been very enthusiastic about moving back to Alicante. Alec was pleased, especially for the way Clary and Jace tried to hide their joy.

“Finally; my last two appointments. Our Captain of the Army unfortunately perished during the battle at Lake Lyn. Taking up the position will be one who has proven himself time and time again, as well as having continuously beaten me at the Joust.” He grinned as Jace’s eyes widened, catching onto him. “Captain Jace Herondale.”

More polite applause, and Alec suppressed a grin as Jace stood forward and waved at the crowd behind him before Clary pulled him back.

“And to end, a new position.”

He’d spent an entire day arranging this one, and hoped that it might be successful.

“Even with the ward taskforce, we cannot be sure that no demons will be able to find their way into this realm. Therefore, I have decided to create the position of Shadowhunter Emissary, a position Isabelle Lightwood has generously volunteered for.” She grinned up at him, adventure already lighting up her eyes. “She will travel to other countries, identifying the places which might be vulnerable to attacks. In these places I hope to establish institutes, places where Shadowhunters can live, train and detect breaches in the wards. Shadowhunters once lived all over the world, and though Idris will always be our home I think that integration into the wider world is long overdue. Thank you for listening.”

He stepped back and was met with his loudest applause yet. He swallowed, his throat feeling dry. He knew that not everybody would be as pleased with his first decisions as King, but he hoped that the positive response meant that he had some support in his endeavours. It would take some time, but it would all be worth it.

 

.

 

 

The coronation ball was magnificent, considering they’d had less than a week to pull it together.

Izzy had taken it upon herself to decorate the Great Hall; the room adjacent to the throne room and almost three times the size. It was rarely used but when it had been, Alec remembered hating the celebrations they held there. The room had been full of tight-lipped stoic shadowhunters in starchy gowns, small talk and unappetizing appetizers. Now it was transformed; Izzy had gotten some new Seelie friends to conjure curling vines to hang from the ceiling, which were sprouting tiny flowers in purple, blue and white. Huge patterned banners hung on the walls, each bearing a different sigil; for shadowhunters, warlocks, werewolves, vampires and seelies. True unity wouldn’t be as easy as painting a sign, but it was a nice step in the right direction.

Even more people had turned up for the celebration, it seemed, but for once Alec didn’t feel out of place. Everyone was smiling, the atmosphere was light and even the crown on his head didn’t feel so heavy. The consequences of the battle still hurt, and many of the guests were dressed in white, for mourning. But today at least, they could celebrate.

He cast his eyes around the room, searching for familiar faces. Isabelle was dancing with a boy in the middle of the room, the full skirts of her dress swirling around her as she made complicated twirls around him. He spun to keep up with her, and he looked so different in his smart court clothes that Alec almost didn’t recognise him, probably wouldn’t if it weren’t for the very perceptible stumbles even from a distance away.

His mouth fell open in shock as he saw Izzy beam, reaching out to pull Simon back into her.

A little way away from them Jace and Clary were dancing, Jocelyn and Luke looking on from where they stood against the wall. Clary seemed unconcerned but Alec had to bite his lip to suppress his laughter at the way Jace kept on glancing over at them and back at Clary, making sure to keep at least a foot of distance in between them. Alec had never seen him look so stiff, or so nervous.

He was so absorbed in watching them, his friends, his family, the people he had sworn to serve well and protect, that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. He flinched as a hand was laid on his shoulder, before relaxing instantly as a familiar smell – sandalwood and cinnamon – settled over him. He turned to grin at Magnus, blushing at the pride in the other man’s eyes.

“You did it, Alexander.” His voice was soft, but held so much depth.

Alec’s grin grew wider, reaching out to catch Magnus’s hand in his own.

“Couldn’t have done, without you.”

Magnus blinked, a shadow of surprise cast over his features as it always did when Alec said something completely open and honest. He opened his mouth to reply, but they were interrupted by a woman in a long white gown, standing tall and imperious before them.

Alec’s shock was palpable.

“Mother.”

Magnus stepped back a little, dropping Alec’s hand. He smoothed out the material of his tunic – as brightly coloured as ever, but overlaid with more necklaces that usual, for the occasion – and Alec thought he almost looked nervous.

He focused on his mother, on the blankness of her expression. His hand felt cold where Magnus had dropped it, and he felt a little defiance rise in him as he stood taller. It didn’t matter what she said, what she thought. He was King now.

“I’m proud of you, Alec.”

His mouth opened in shock for the second time that evening. Was that…was that a _smile_ on her face?

“You were right,” she continued, sending him further into his shock. “You fought for what was right and I am proud of that. You are the King this country needs.”

“But…dad…” he choked, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him.

He hadn’t let himself think much about his father’s death, hadn’t had the time. But he had felt horrifically guilty for having been the reason – part of the reason – that he’d been on at Lake Lyn that day. He’d come because of them, he’d fought Valentine for them. He’d died for them. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, the weight on the crown on his head pulling him down.

But his mother just shook her head, sadly, still smiling.

“Your father made his own decision. He too chose to fight for what was right, in the end, and I am proud of him too. I will always miss him, but he made his choice. I respect that, and you should too. He gave a lot for this country, but he was always scared of never being enough. Don’t let that fear bring you down, Alec. I know that you are capable of great things. Good things.”

He was speechless. It was the longest speech he could ever remember having with his mother, she’d always been more of a silent, judgemental figure standing at his father’s side. But now…now she seemed softer, warmer. Her eyes were sad but open and she even smiled at Magnus as she turned to leave them, inclining her head in a show of respect.

“That was…” he began, dazedly.

Magnus chuckled softly, his finger grazing his arm.

“Magical.” He finished, for him. “I thought that I was the warlock in this relationship, Alexander, but it seems that I have competition.”

Alec turned to look at him then, feeling himself relax.

“There’s no competition when it comes to you. Ever.”

He leaned forward to press a light kiss on Magnus’s lips, feeling a rush of elation that he could do so in public.

“Now. Want to find somewhere I can stash this thing, then take a walk outside? Fresh air sounds wonderful right now.” He admitted.

Magnus laughed, slipping a hand in his. It was warm and comforting. It felt like home.

“By ‘this thing’’, do you mean your crown? That sparkling jewel-encrusted symbol of your sovereignty that probably costs more that all the jewellery I own?”

“Yep.” Alec teased, tugging him along. “That thing.”

Magnus shook his head but followed him, his smile painted on his face. Once they had carefully placed the crown back under lock and key and Alec’s head was feeling wonderfully light they made their way outside, to where dusk was just beginning to fall. The music from the ball behind them faded into the background as they wandered through the flower gardens, under little strings of twinkly lights.

Alec knew that it wouldn’t always seem to easy, and he had a lot of work to do, especially over the coming months. But in that moment right then, with his friends and family laughing and dancing in the castle and Magnus’s hand warm in his own, he felt happy. He felt at peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.


End file.
